Find a Way
by marchingon
Summary: Derek and Addison are kidnapped, and it's a race against time for everyone at Seattle Grace to find them and get them to safety. Pre-divorce, ADDEK. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

AN: Hello everyone! I'm back with another chapter story. IDK what came over me, but I was just typing away the other night and this is what came of it. I still don't know where I'm going with it, but I'm posting the first two chapters so you can all give me your thoughts. :) Thanks for reading and feedback's highly appreciated.

-I own nothing.

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The cold Seattle wind hit Addison's face as she exited the hospital. It was unusually cold for January, colder than what would be expected in Seattle, but it comforted her because it reminded her of Manhattan. The cold made her feel right at home. At least, she thought, it was real cold and not just the icy demeanor Derek had been showing her these past days.

She came to Seattle three months ago, hoping to work things out with Derek. She'd made a mistake, yes. But she was more than paying for it now. Derek was in love with an intern, he'd told her so at Christmas. And although she was working hard to keep her marriage intact, she couldn't help but wonder why she subjected herself to that sort of punishment. She knew she deserved it somewhat, but was it too hard to ask your husband to _care_?

"Addison!" The voice was urgent, with a tinge of hostility.

She stopped in her tracks, turning around and coming face to face with Derek. He was panting, his lips shivering slightly at cold night air as they stood in the parking lot. "Is something wrong?" she questioned, her breath baited as she hoped to hear that tone of care in his voice.

Derek shook his head, but lifted his hand up to tell her he needed a moment to catch his breath. "I wanted to talk to you before you left," he said. "About that case we were working on together," he added quickly.

"Oh." Her face dropped ever so slightly in disappointment, but masked it expertly with professional concern. She had mastered keeping her emotions at check and facial expressions at bay. "What about her? The Jansens, right?"

Derek nodded. "The Jansens, yes. Elaina Jansen is severely anemic."

"I know that."

"It complicates her surgery. She'll need a transfusion if we want her to survive."

Addison sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to prevent herself from feeling every other emotion she knew she was going to. "What do you suggest then?"

"I don't know maybe--- Addison?" he questioned, noticing that she wasn't paying attention.

"What? No, go on. Maybe what?"

"Are you okay? Why don't you take a seat and—"

"I'm fine Derek," she half snapped, her eyes locking with his. "I was on my way back to the trailer anyway."

Derek nodded, resting his hand on the small of her back. "Why don't I drive you home just in case?"

"I'm fine Derek," she said again, harsher than she had intended to.

Derek's jaw firmed, and his eyes blazed with confused anger. "Why won't you let me help you? You come here to Seattle, begging me to care. And now that I do, you push me away. God Addison. What do you want me to do?"

Addison's face fell before she clenched her jaw, suppressing her anger. "I want you to care in the right places, Derek. I want you to care that you don't go home too often, or that I don't see you for more than five minutes everyday, or that you're hurting me by loving your intern. I want you to care that I've had more conversations with your voicemail than with you, or that you don't seem to be getting anywhere closer to forgiving me for Mark. Not when I say I'm fine, or when I'm not even feeling the slightest headache. I'm just tired, and all I want to do is get to bed," she huffed.

"Fine, then. From now on, Addison, you're not getting a single ounce of care for me. I'm here, trying to be the good guy and looking out for you. But you're too stubborn for your own damn good." He turned away sharply and walked briskly away from her, his thoughts running a thousand miles per minute.

Addison shook her head and turned back, fully intending on getting to her car. But all of a sudden, a huge van came to a screeching halt beside her, and man in black jumped out, pulling her by the waist and dragging her to the van.

"What the--?" Addison questioned, and then realized what was happening. Panic started to surge through her as the man forcefully grabbed her, placing his hand on her mouth. Her heart started beating triple time, her eyes searching frantically for someone to help her.

"Scream and you die," he whispered venomously, his voice dangerously low.

Addison struggled hard, managing to bite the man's hand, forcing him to retract. "Help!" she screamed, her eyes filling with tears. "Help!"

Derek was midway through the parking lot when he heard her blood-curling scream. Something inside of him snapped, and he knew right there and then that Addison was in trouble. Although he didn't know exactly what was happening, he wasted no time in bolting towards the sound of her voice, panic filling him as he saw Addison struggling against a man by a van.

"Addison!" he screamed, running hastily and fully ready to attack. A thousand thoughts were running in his head at seeing her struggle against a man twice her size. He was about a yard away from Addison when another man jumped from the van and hit him square on the jaw, causing him to fall backwards. He struggled to regain his balance, but the man hit him again, punching him on the stomach.

"Take them both!" a voice from inside the van said, his tone hard and hurried.

The two men nodded, pulling Derek from the ground and throwing him into the van. The other man hit Addison on the head with his elbow, causing her to black out. They pulled her into the van as well and sped off into the night, leaving everyon at Seattle Grace clueless.

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Thanks for reading. Tell me what you think! :)


	2. Chapter 1

Addison's head spun as she struggled to orient herself in the dark room she was in. She had no recollection of what had happened at first, but then Derek's face came into view and she remembered, hoping against hope that she was dreaming.

"Addie? Are you awake?"

She squinted to get a good view of Derek's face, a bruise forming on his chin. They were both tied to adjacent poles, their bodies restless. "Der?" she whispered, pulling her hands against the tight rope that bounded her to the post. She winced slightly as the rough rope scratched her skin, making it raw.

He sighed in relief, thanking gods he didn't believe in that she was awake, and that for now, they were safe. "You gave me quite a scare."

"Where are we?" she asked, ignoring his comment. "Where…. Where are we, Derek?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his head turning, trying to survey the place. "Looks like we're in a basement of some sort. The ride here was a blur for me."

Addison nodded, trying hard to think logically. She really didn't want to be thinking of the countless possibilities their situation beheld. "How long have we been here?"

Derek shrugged. "Around five hours, give or take."

"And how long was the ride to here?"

He was thoughtful for a moment. "About an hour."

"So it's 3am… sort of," she deduced, sighing. "Did you make out who…?"

Derek shook his head. "I don't know. I'm a pity case. They were only supposed to take you," he said dryly.

She smiled slightly, feeling guilty for dragging him into whatever mess they were in. It was true that if she hadn't screamed for his help, he wouldn't be in the situation they were in. Maybe then they'd have a fighting chance to be found. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes cast downward. "I shouldn't have called for help."

He looked at her understandingly before replying. "Don't be," he said firmly. "I would rather be here with you, in some unknown place awaiting a more unknown future, than be at the hospital worrying my heart out about you." His eyes were full of love and sincerity, something he had not shown toward her in quite some time.

Her eyes registered surprise at the obvious sentiment. It touched her to see Derek care for her, something she'd been longing for for so long. "Thank you," she said finally, not knowing what else to say. "I… uh… I'm glad you're here with me."

Derek nodded, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch her, embrace her, hold her hand; anything to have physical contact with her. There was a time when they both found solace with each other, when being close in proximity was their safety blanket. He knew that no matter how rough things were between them, they would always feel safe with each other. "I'm glad I'm here too." He paused, clearing his throat. "I'm… sorry about what I said this evening. I didn't mean it." His apologetic voice was heavy, the regret evident. They were both so passionate about their fights that they often said things they knew they didn't mean.

"I know," she whispered.

Derek sighed, willing her to understand. "I care, Addie. I always will. And… I may not have been showing it but---"

"Looks like our little love birds are awake," a man said, his voice sickeningly low. Behind him, the door opened, spilling in light from the outside as well as two other burly men, each fashioning a maniac grin.

Addison and Derek jolted up, their legs curling in an effort to protect themselves. They shot each other a look, drawing strength from each other.

Peter, the man who had just spoken, walked into the room, a big rifle dangling from his shoulders. He motioned for the other men, Ed and Carl, to switch the lights on and follow him.

Derek's eyes followed their every move, his heart beating loudly at the way Peter was looking at his wife. Derek knew what he was thinking, and he was revolted, his gut heavy with anger and fear for his wife's safety.

Peter turned to Derek, smiling. "You're a brave man, Dr. Shepherd. You thought you could save your wife. But really, bravery is different from brains. You were stupid to think you could outdo us."

He proceeded to walk to Addison, bending down and setting a cool palm on her cheek, Addison's eyes were ablaze with hate. "You're awfully pretty, Addison. I didn't think you would be, considering how you're your father's daughter. But you are, and you're extremely desirable. What a shame for him and your husband. We'd be having a lot of fun with you."

"What do you want?" Addison asked, her voice raised and trying to stay calm. She tried not to think about the implication of his words. Derek could almost see the inner turmoil Addison was battling with.

Peter laughed, the sound coming from his throat dark and grim. "What do I want?" he asked, his brow raising. "I want to play a game, something I like to call revenge." His hand traveled from Addison's cheek to her neck, and then to her breast, cupping it as Addison sucked in her breath, trying to fight from his grasp.

"Hey!" Derek yelled, before Ed walked briskly to Derek and held him at gunpoint.

"Say another word and I shoot. This has nothing to do with you," Ed said, thoroughly enjoying torturing him.

"What do you want?" Addison said again, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Peter laughed again and stood up, pacing the dingy room. "Like I said, I want revenge. You're daddy's little girl. I want him to pay."

"How do you know my father?" Her voice was laced with wary disbelief.

"Your father is the reason why you're here. Attorney Anthony Montgomery, right?" he leered, almost spitting the name out. "The damn son of a bitch took my family away from me and locked me up. He deserves to suffer."

"What are you talking about?" Addison pleaded, clearly not knowing what to make of the situation.

"He ruined my life. So now, I'm ruining his." He walked over to Derek, studying his face before bending down. He continued to talk to Addison as he surveyed Derek's features. "I would've gone for your mother. But they're divorced and I really don't want to be dealing with a bitch like Bizzy Forbes. She's far too high maintenance. I understand how he'd want a divorce. But you, on the other hand, live in a trailer with your wood chopping, flannel wearing husband right here. So I know you won't be any trouble."

Addison's eyes widened, as well as Derek's. Their jaws dropped simultaneously. How did this man know such confidential information about them? Like where they lived and what Addison had mentioned to their therapist? Addison gaped in horror. "What?" she whispered, feeling afraid for the first time that evening.

Peter stood up. "Took you by surprise, didn't it? I thought so. I did my research well, Dr. Montgomery- Shepherd. After all, if I want my damn plan to work, I have to be fully prepared." He walked over and sat himself on an empty stool, clearly enjoying the situation. "I know a lot of things you don't know, Addison. For instance, did you know that your husband here walks your dog… Doc, that's his name right? Did you know that he walks it with Meredith Grey every morning?"

Addison's jaw fell further down, not believing what she was hearing. Her gaze shifted to Derek, who wanted nothing more than for all of this to end. His eyes held extreme guilt, but she shook her head and willed herself to be strong.

"And did you know that your father was the man who prosecuted me for not selling my land to him? He took me to court. For what? For greed. He wanted my land out in Hartford because he wanted to build you a stable. For his precious Addison, he had said. And him being in such power and authority, I was left to be thrown in jail while my family was left with nothing." Hatred coursed through his veins as he recounted the events that led them to where they were now. Anthony Montgomery had stolen the land for a stable he was planning to build for his only daughter. He was going to buy it, initially, but the owner, Peter, refused to sell it. So he took it to court and had won, getting Peter thrown behind bars.

"So you thought that kidnapping me would be a good way to get back at him?" Addison said, her gaze hard and steady.

"No. I knew that wasn't enough. So I'm doing more than just kidnapping you," he stated, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "But don't think about that now, _Addie-bee_," he said, using the term of endearment Addison's father had used on her. "You and your husband just get a good night's sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He stood up and was halfway to the door when he stopped, turning around and then chuckling. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. You two would be fighting tonight, not getting any sleep. At any rate, try not to kill each other, okay? I want to be able to do that myself." With that, he gave them another smile and turned the light off. "Good night," he said, and bolted the door from the outside.

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I need a beta. Anyone interested?


	3. Chapter 2

AN: I honestly wasn't expecting that much reviews. But thank you all. They're awesome. :) Kindov inspired me to update faster.

I realllyyyy hate first couple of chapters of a story because it's usually just laying down the facts and all that before you get to the real plot. So like any other story, this chapter is also a lay-down of sorts. But I hope you like it just the same. :) My sincerest thanks for reading!

-I own nothing.

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Anthony Montgomery was a man envied by so many. Especially in Hartford, he was that man every boy wanted to be like. He was rich and successful, smart and good-looking. He had the perfect ex-wife, Bizzy, with whom he had an amicable divorce with. He had the perfect children, Addison and Archer, both of whom were successful doctors. He had everything he ever dreamt of having and more. But that phone call from a man he could not easily forget changed the way he viewed himself. It never occurred to him that in the process of building his reputation, he would hurt one of the people he cared most deeply for.

"_This is Atty. Montgomery," he said, annoyed at being disturbed from one of his important business meetings. _

"_Atty. Montgomery. Nice to hear your voice again," Peter sneered; proud of the way his plan was going. _

_Anthony furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry. I didn't get who this is." _

"_This is Peter. Peter Jones. Perhaps you remember me from the riverside case about the land you wanted to purchase." _

_Realization dawned on Anthony's face, together with curiosity. "Ah. Mr. Jones. What can I do for you?" _

_Peter laughed. "Oh, there are a lot of things you can do for me."_

"_From prison?"_

"_I got out on parole a year ago, Attorney. And, let's just say that I paid a little visit to your daughter out here in Seattle. She's a charming lady, deserving of that stable you wanted to build, by the way."_

_He froze, his gut telling him that the phone call wasn't going anywhere near pleasant. He was trying with all his might to pray that whatever he was thinking was wrong, knowing full well that if anything happened to Addison, he would be at fault. "Excuse me?"_

"_Don't worry, Attorney. Addie-bee's going to be fine. For now, at least. " _

"_What do you mean?_ _Where are you? Where is she?" he asked, his voice laced with pent-up panic. He wanted to scream, to take action immediately. But he couldn't until he could settle a negotiation. He knew what had happened, even without hearing it directly from Peter. He knew the man got his little girl. _

"_Relax. My men and myself are making her cozy. She's fine," he repeated. _

_Anthony began to pace, a million thoughts running through his head. How did he know Addie was in Seattle? Where were they? Was she safe? Was he bluffing? What did he want in the first place? He breathed in and out, calming breaths to help get through the phone call without breaking down. "What do you want?"_

"_What I want is simple, Anthony. What I want is revenge." _

"_Reve—Revenge? Where's my daughter? Let her go, you son of a bitch! What're you doing to her? I swear, if you lay a hand on even a single strand of her hair, I'll kill you! I'll kill you! She didn't do anything! It was me, so help me god! Let her go!"_

"_Easy there, bud. In case you haven't noticed, you're in no position to make demands. So suck it up. We're doing this my way," he said harshly, his voice hard with hate. "Besides," he added as an after thought, "before you get to kill me, your daughter could've been gone long before. With her husband, too."_

_Anthony's eyes snapped open. His son-in-law was also in this mess. He tried to calm himself, if only for Addison's safety. He had to stay strong so that there was the slightest hope of finding Addison. "Please. Don't hurt her," he managed. "Don't hurt her."_

"_Not yet," Peter said, smiling to himself. _

"_What do you want?" he asked again. _

_Peter cleared his throat. "I want my land back. I want my criminal record erased. I want the last 25 years of my life back. Can you give that to me? No. You can't. So here's what I want. I want to be able to peel your daughter's skin away, slowly and painfully, while she's tied to a pole, silenced. I want to be able to crack her skull and break her neck with my bare hands and let her feel my wrath. I want her husband to watch with open eyes, unable to even blink for fear of being shot himself. I want her to suffer. But more than anything, I want you to live the rest of your life with the guilt eating you from your very core for being the one to cause the slow and excruciating death of your only daughter." He paused, laughing at the sadist in himself. "Because that's a lot better, for me anyway. You won't die, but you get to take that guilt of knowing you killed your daughter by default to the grave," he muttered venomously, and turned the phone off, leaving Anthony Montgomery stunned to the core. _

-

Derek and Addison were unable to sleep throughout the rest of the night. They were both lost in thought, in silent panic.

"Say something Addie," Derek whispered, his voice pleading. "Please. I… I'm sorry about Mere—"

"Don't, Derek," she snapped, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Just… just don't. I don't want to hear it. Save your excuses and just… don't."

Derek sighed. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry okay? What do you want me to say? She needed a friend, and I wanted to be her friend. She needed someone to talk to, and I wanted to be there for her."

"But you couldn't be there for me, right? It was okay to lie to your wife so you could walk the damn dog and be there for her. But it wasn't okay to let go of a couple of surgeries to at least come home and work on your marriage. Right?" Addison sighed heavily, frustrated. "Why, Derek? Tell me why. I don't understand how it was so easy to communicate with her and yet you couldn't even spare me 5 minutes of your precious time when _I_ needed you. You could've told me instead of hiding it from me. I would have tried to understand. At least then you were being honest. But now, what? I had to find out from a man who could very well kill us in a snap."

"Addison…"

"I'm not finished yet," she whispered hardly. "What's wrong with me, Derek? Why couldn't you see past my mistake and just move forward with me, or at least try to do that? God, I'm so stupid. I should've just signed those damn divorce papers myself. Maybe then I could've saved what was left of my dignity."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Addie."

"Bullshit. Just…" She sighed, utterly frustrated. "You know what? Never mind. Walk the damn dog with her for all I care. Everyday and every fucking minute for the rest of your life if you want to. I'm through. As soon as we get out of here, I'm signing the papers and going back to New York. You win," she said, defeated. "I don't know how I ever thought I could compete with her."

Derek cast his eyes downward, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to fall. It was only at that point that he noticed how much he had broken his wife, and how much it meant for him and for her to take it all back and move forward. "Please don't do this," he whispered softly, his voice raw with emotion Addison had never heard from him before. "Don't give up. Please."

She shook her head. "There's nothing left to fight for, Derek. I just… I lost. You win. I don't have what it takes to keep fighting."

"I was wrong, Addie. What I did was wrong. And I promise that when we get out of here, things will be better for us. But please… don't let go just yet."

Addison sighed. "I stayed with Mark after you left," she blurted out suddenly, not knowing where that piece of information came from. "I stayed with him and I got pregnant and I aborted his baby." She closed her eyes, unable to meet Derek's shocked gaze. "Are you happy now? Are you happy that I'm finally letting you go? Did I clear up the guilt for you? Because I _am_ Satan's whore. I'm an adulteress bitch and I deserve everything you've put me through since I got here. So please... don't start feeling guilty now. I'm giving you an out."

Derek's jaw clenched, surprised by that bit of information. She stayed with him, for two months. It wasn't a one-night stand, it was an affair. And she got pregnant, with his baby. _His baby_ was inside of her and she killed it. He shook his head disbelievingly. "I... I may be shocked, Addison, but it doesn't mean I'm ready to let you go." He himself was surprised by the words that came out of his mouth, and was even more surprised to realize that he meant it.

"Why? So you could punish me more? Do I look like a glutton for punishment to you, Derek?"

"No. Because… because I can't blame you," he whispered. "I can't blame you for staying with him. He was so much better for you than I was at that time. And I can't blame you for terminating the pregnancy, either. Mark would've been a horrible father." He paused, himself unsure of where his sudden understanding came from. "But I'm done punishing you, Addison. Now all I want is to move forward."

Addison sighed again. "Have you not been listening to a word I've been saying? I don't have the strength to fight anymore, Derek."

"Then let me fight for us."

She shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. It takes two to tango."

"You held us together long enough to reach this point, Addie. It _does_ work that way sometimes." He paused. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Addison."

Addison opened her eyes, tears threatening to spill. "It doesn't work," she said firmly. "If it did... if my love was enough to keep us together, we wouldn't be here now, would we? So unless you find a way to prove to me that you really are sorry and willing to move forward, Derek, your words are nothing but drunken ravings to me."

-

"What do we do now?" Ed asked, lighting a cigarette and bringing it to his lips.

Peter shrugged, taking a sip of his scotch. "We get cozy."

Carl smiled wickedly. "How cozy, boss?"

He laughed, nodding. "As cozy as you want."

Ed and Carl looked at each other, their eyes glinting with mischief. They would surely enjoy the company of that redhead. She was feisty, and beautiful, and smart; just the way they wanted a girl to be.

"But," Peter said suddenly, "You do not get to lay a hand on the husband. You can restrain him but don't… hit him. In fact, I want him to be totally strong and awake to watch."

"Why?"

Peter turned his head, grinning. "He gets to live," he said simply. "But he lives with the horrible image of his wife being tortured and him strong enough to save her but being unable to."

"I thought you said he didn't care about his wife?"

He raised a brow. "Oh, he cares alright. Only now, it's too late."

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Okay. What do you all think? Let me know! And thanks so much for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 3

AN: You guys are awesome at reviews! :)) Made my day. Specially that one review by one of my favorite authors. It made my heart melt. Hahaha. So since you were all so kind and encouraging, I'm posting two chapters tonight for you all. (Oh. And whoever said she could beta for me... I really need your help. I sort of don't know how it works on this site. :|)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you like it.

-I own nothing.

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Richard Webber paced his office, calling both Shepherds on their mobile phones for the nth time that day. They weren't answering pages, though both their cars were in the parking lot. No one was answering at the trailer; neither of them was answering the mobile. No one had seen them come into work today and only Derek was on call last night. He knew something was up but he couldn't put his finger on it.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the landline ringing, forcing him to postpone his 33rd voicemail on Derek's cell to answer it.

"Chief Webber," he greeted lackadaisically.

On the other end of the line, Anthony sighed, growing tired of narrating the call for the 12th time. The first twelve times he narrated the story, it was to the Hartford Police Department, then to the law firm, then to Bizzy and Archer and other influential people who could help him track down his daughter. They all vowed to help, and he was confident that they would do everything in their power to find her. He knew they scurried off to find a lead as soon as he put the phone down. And now it was Richard Webber, the man Addison considered her surrogate father. It would be hard for him to hear it too. "Chief. It's Anthony Montgomery."

Richard was surprised. He had not spoken to Anthony in nearly a year, and only heard about his well being from Addison. "Tony. It's nice to hear from you," he said, taking a seat. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm calling about Addison," he said nervously.

"What about her? I can't reach her, actually. Husband and wife seem have gone MIA," he said matter-of-factly.

"They _have_ gone MIA."

"What do you mean?" he inquired, his heart starting to beat faster. He knew all too well what kind of things the Shepherds did, but to have Anthony Montgomery call him that way made things all the more unnerving.

"Richard… Derek and Addison have been kidnapped." He sucked in a breath, the task of spreading the word becoming a chore. "They… I don't know how it happened. But during one of my trials, I prosecuted a man by the name of Peter Jones. I need you to look him up, find any trace of him or where he brought the kids. He took them, and he's planning on…"

All color drained from Richard's face. "He's planning to kill them," he finished. "But why?"

Anthony sighed. "He got thrown into jail for something I did. And well… let's just say he wants me to pay for it."

"Then why Addie?"

"Because he knows how much Addie means to me."

Richard stood up, the phone still pressed to his ear. "Peter Jones. I'll have him looked up. I'll call the police and alert everyone. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you. But please," he begged. "Please hurry. We don't have much time to find them."

-

The loud banging of the door startled Addison out of her light sleep. She didn't realize she'd gone off to dreamland in the midst of the mess they were in, and she woke up to find Peter opening the lights and taking his place on the small stool in front of them.

Derek sat up straighter, his stance all too aware of Peter's every move. All he wanted to do was strangle Peter and protect Addison.

Addison's gaze followed him as he sat on the stool, her expression wary.

"Good morning, Shepherds. Did you sleep well?" he asked, the fake politeness dripping from his tone.

None of the Shepherds answered, only stared hard at him.

Peter shook his head. "Looks like you didn't," he laughed. "But the two of you look like you want to kill each other."

"What do you plan on doing to us?" Addison asked suddenly, unable to bite her tongue to keep her from lashing out.

He glanced at Addison and grinned. "I have surprises in store for you. One of which is to see which one of you is better at killing the other." He stood up and walked to the back of Addison's post, drawing out a knife and cutting the rope that held her hands, setting her free. Then he walked to Derek's pole and did the same. "Don't try anything funny with me, though. I won't tolerate it."

Addison and Derek remained motionless on their spots; their hands limp on their sides. They didn't know what game he was playing.

"I called your father," Peter said. "He's not very happy with me. I think he's already sent out a search party for you. Don't worry though, he won't be able to find you." He paused, and then turned to Derek. "I think your father in law's called your mother, too. She must be worried. But don't you fear. I'll get _you_ to safety."

Derek's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, it's a surprise."

The door to the small room suddenly opened, both Carl and Ed entering. "Good morning," they greeted.

Peter smiled. "These are Carl and Ed. Forgive my manners for not being able to introduce you to them last night. They're here to keep you company." He paused, thoughtful. "Actually, it's to keep Addison here company," he gestured, satisfied by Addison's horrified expression and Derek's angry one.

"But that's not until tonight," Carl said, his eyes settled on Addison's breasts.

Ed laughed. "You guys ought to be on good terms first. Otherwise, it's going to be no fun watching Derek. He won't squirm a bit."

Peter cleared his throat and then kneeled down beside Addison, once again, as last night, placing his hand on her cheek and smiling. "And after them, it'll be just us. Contrary to what your father thinks, I do know how to share."

The next thing Addison knew, the lights had turned off and the doors were sealed, leaving only her and Derek once again. She was too stunned to react. She couldn't quite comprehend the exact implications of their words, but she knew all too well that she would be violated.

Derek crawled cautiously to Addison's side, taking her hands in his. "No one's going to hurt you, Addie. Not while I'm here. I pro—"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered. "You and I both know that we're powerless against them. They can do whatever they want with us…. With me."

He sighed, knowing she was right, but unwilling to give up. He couldn't stomach the idea of someone violating Addison, his wife. He wanted to protect her so badly that he wanted to rip their throats out, if only it would save her. "We could fight them," he offered.

Addison shook her head, taking her hands back from Derek's and wrapping her arms around his waist. "We can't. They're too strong."

"We could try to escape."

She looked around the room and laughed humorlessly. "There's not even a single window out here, Derek. Let's just… let's just accept it. It's going to happen and we're going to be powerless against it."

"We could try to kill them."

"Derek! They have guns the size of the trailer bathroom! All we have's each other. We can't possibly fight them."

"Then what do you suggest we do, Addison? I refuse to sit here and let them… let them hurt you! I refuse to. I love you Addison and it'll god damn kill me if they ever—"

"Stop, okay! Just stop. We'll figure something out. But right now, we have to accept that it's going to happen. The sooner we face it, the sooner we can find a way to deal with it. If it happens, then so be it. We just stay strong for each other."

Derek's eyes widened in terror. "You're actually conceding to it, Addison?"

"It's not like we have any other option. They… rape me," she gulped, unable to process the word fully, "then they do it. But we keep in mind that we're in this together and that we're strong."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to deny the reality of what was happening. It was hard for him to hear Addison just relenting to something as big as that. But she was right, as always. Even if they fought them, they would still lose. They needed to find another way to fight. "So what now?" he asked wearily.

"Just hold me, please," she said, tightening her grip around Derek's waist.

Derek obliged and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head and wishing that his embrace was enough to protect her.

Addison breathed deeply, enjoying the strength she drew from Derek's arms. "Let them do it. I won't fight it. It'll only hurt more. I'll just… pretend it's you," she whispered, her tone hopeless. "And then after…"

"After, I'll be right here and I'll hold you and we'll make sure we forget it ever happened," he assured, feeling the tears starting to build in his eyes.

She nodded against his chest, willing herself not to cry. "You promise you'll be here?" All she wanted right now was to have to him, to let him comfort her. It didn't matter that she was still angry, or that she would still divorce him after they got out (if they ever did). All that mattered now was that they needed each other, and they couldn't possibly deny the strength they found in being together.

"I'll always be here, Addison. I'll make you forget."

"So it'll hurt less?" she questioned, her voice small.

"So it'll hurt less," he confirmed, moving so that they were facing each other. He lowered his lips on hers and kissed her softly, trying hard to convey his feelings. He wanted her to believe him; that they would be together and that no matter those men did to them, they would be strong, and they would still be AddisonandDerek.

-

Peter fished his mobile out from his pocket, dialing Anthony's number once again. He was willing to set up a deal with him after an afternoon of thinking.

"Montgomery."

"Hello Montgomery. This Peter."

Anthony scrambled to take a seat, eyeing the police officer in front of him to signal that it was Peter Jones calling. "Yes, Peter. What can I do for you?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

"I have a proposition to make. This Saturday, 5:00pm, you alone, on the deserted southbound highway right out of Seattle."

"And then what?"

"We exchange," he said mysteriously.

Anthony's breath hitched. "Me in place of my daughter?"

Peter nodded, even though it wasn't what he meant. "You in place of your daughter. Come alone, Peter."

"Saturday? But it's only Monday. Can I… can we do this tomorrow? I mean, exchange tomorrow? Please. The sooner the better," he pleaded.

"Maybe for you. But it isn't for me. I haven't even started having fun with her."

Anthony's fists balled, hate coursing through every fiber of his being. He wanted his little girl safe, and alive, but that was only possible if he contained himself and his anger. "Please don't hurt her," he begged.

"Oh, I can't promise you that. But I can promise you that I'll be enjoying her. Did you make sure she enjoyed those ponies you bought for her? And the stable you fought for till the end? I hope you did. She might never see it again."

"I thought we had a deal." The alarm in his voice was evident.

"We do. Until I change my mind, that is."

Anthony groaned. "You certainly don't play fair, Mr. Jones."

Peter laughed. "Neither do you. But enough about that. Saturday, 5pm, alone, on the highway. We'll exchange."

"We'll exchange," Anthony confirmed, trying his best to trust the man who held his daughter captive.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added quickly.

"Yes?"

"I _can_ promise you one thing."

Anthony cringed, almost afraid of what Peter was going to say next. "What is it?"

"That your son in law…. Derek, right? He won't get hurt. I promise."

-

Carl handed Ed the lighter, himself bringing his lighted cigarette to his lips. "Who goes first tonight?"

Ed shrugged. "I want mine silent."

"I want mine feisty."

"Then you go first," Ed offered. "I'll keep an eye on the husband."

"What if he throws a fit?"

Ed laughed. "He won't. He'll be watching, and he'll be drawn in some sick kind of way because… well… he doesn't care."

"What if he does?" Carl asked, trying to remember where he put the pack of condoms.

"He doesn't really have a choice. He has to watch."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think!:)


	5. Chapter 4

Addison and Derek were jolted awake by the sound of the door being roughly opened. It was six in the evening, and Carl and Ed were just about ready to give them both hell.

Ed grinned, walking over to the couple and pulling them apart roughly. "You first?" he asked, referring to Carl.

Carl nodded, taking a good look at Addison's posture. Her legs were curled as she leaned against Derek, her eyes closed, trying to put her mind over what was happening. He lowered himself and came face to face with her, slapping on the face to get her to open her eyes.

Addison's eyes snapped open, the tears starting to form and her cheek red from the harsh slap. "What?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

"It's time for us to have some fun," he leered, turning to face Ed. "You make sure he watches?"

Ed nodded, pulling Derek from the floor and holding his head firmly in his hands. "You get to watch your wife having sex with someone else… again. Classy right? I bet you're going to enjoy this. Only this time it isn't your best friend."

Derek closed his eyes, fighting the man's grip until he tightened it so much that he was sure that one move could cause his neck to break. But he struggled more, praying for strength to gods he didn't believe in. "Don't lay a hand on her, you worthless piece of crap!" he yelled, fighting with all his strength against the man who suddenly pushed him against the wall and tied his hands roughly, peeling a layer of his skin off.

"Watch, asshole. It's not everyday that something like this happens. You ought to savor it," he said, pulling a small gun from his pocket and aiming it directly to Derek's head. "You pull your eyes away for even just a second, and your head blows up in flames," he warned. Although he was under strict orders not to hurt Derek, he enjoyed the lying and taunting too much to stop.

"Derek," Addison pleaded from her position, her tears causing him more grief. "Don't."

He struggled more, despite the gun aimed directly to his head. He tried to kick, tried to scream, tried to be some hero he knew only existed in the movies. "Don't touch her!"

"Damn it!" Ed said, hitting Derek's on the jaw before he could control himself. "Stop struggling!"

"You're a worthless piece of crap!" Derek yelled again, ignoring Addison's soft protests. "This is why you're so hell bent on punishing us! It's because you're stupid and you're worthless and you're—"

"Say one more word and I shoot your wife!" Ed bellowed, moving the gun from his head to where Addison lay under Carl. "I swear to god. If you don't shut your big fat mouth, your wife dies!" He was breathing heavily, somehow not comprehending that Derek's insults struck a chord.

Derek was silenced, fear gripping his entire body as he saw the gun pointing directly at Addison. His head turned to Addison, and he had to close his eyes at the sound of her soft whimpering. He merely nodded, meeting Addison's pleading gaze. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. "I couldn't protect you."

Ed smiled in satisfaction. "Good boy. Now, watch her or _she_ dies."

"Be strong, Adds," he pleaded. "It'll be over before you know it," he managed through the lump in his throat.

Addison let a couple of tears fall before wincing in pain as Carl tore her blouse roughly, taking it off of her and revealing her lace bra.

Carl smiled, standing up to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down. "You ready, doctor?" he asked, unclasping her bra and taking it off, marveling at her beauty. He smirked, his hand cupping one of her breasts and squeezing it slightly.

She wanted to scream, to vomit, to run away. But she couldn't. She knew that if she made so much as one wrong move, Derek could end up getting hurt. And she didn't want that. It was her fault he was here in the first place, so she swallowed up the emotions and closed her eyes.

Derek wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. There was a weird feeling in his stomach, like he _wanted_ to watch, if only so that Addison was not alone in her sufferings. He wanted to suffer just as much, and seeing her struggle against a man twice her size was enough to rip his heart into shreds.

Carl held Addison firmly on the shoulders and shoved her to the ground, straddling her. He ripped the skirt off of her and pulled her legs apart roughly. Addison cried out in pain as he slapped her hard on the face.

"Shut up," he muttered, pulling Addison's stockings and panties off, smiling to himself.

Addison bit her lip so hard that it drew blood. She wanted to cry out, but crying out would mean another slap, another blow, and him violating her this way was enough. She closed her eyes tight as he forced himself into her, her tears falling involuntarily as she felt her insides tear open.

"Are you enjoying, sweet pea?" he asked, thrusting himself harder into her as he placed a sloppy kiss on her lips. He thrust in harder, faster, making it all the more difficult for Addison to stop shaking.

Derek eyes were forced to watch her, Ed's gun now placed firmly on his head. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his own face as he watched his wife suffer under the cruelty of the pigheaded assholes who captured them. _This'll be over soon_, he kept telling himself. _Stay strong, Addison_.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Carl pulled away, blood oozing its way out of her. He grunted and then pulled his pants up, smiling, satisfied. He turned his attention to Addison and kicked her in the stomach. "Thanks, _Addie-bee_. I'll be sure to tell your dad you were a good girl today."

Carl walked to Ed and nodded, taking the gun out of Ed's hand and taking his place beside Derek. "Did you enjoy the show?" he whispered.

Derek only shook his head, his body shaking with anger. "I swear to God, after we've gotten out of here, you'll be thrown into jail and you'll wish you never laid a hand on my wife," he muttered, his voice more confident that he felt. He continued to struggle, trying to free his hands from the rope. If it was possible, steam would've been coming out of his ears and noise as he was red all over.

Carl only laughed, shoving the gun harder. "You wish, Dr. Shepherd."

Ed walked over to Addison and bent down, carrying her and setting her on the stool right in front of Derek. He turned and shrugged. "I like my sex rough," he explained, grinning to himself as he saw Derek squirm.

"Please stop," Addison whispered, her body trembling.

"But we haven't even started yet," he said, pulling his pants down and starting to kiss Addison on the neck.

A shiver of disgust ran down Addison's spine, her heart pounding, her body feeling dirtier than ever. "Please," she whispered again.

If Ed heard her, he made no implication. He merely continued kissing her, placing a big, wet kiss on her lips as Addison felt the hardened erection against her stomach. He groaned as he felt Addison stiffen, turning him on even more. And just like Carl, he pushed himself forcefully into Addison, her body curling instantly at the rough gesture. He thrust in harder, his mind somehow articulating that her reaction was out of pleasure.

Forceful thrust after forceful thrust, Derek watched helplessly as the love of his life went through the most devastating experience he could ever imagine. He wanted nothing more than to pull her away and cradle her in his arms.

_Thrust._

_Whimper._

_Thrust._

_Yelp._

_Kiss. Thrust. Thrust._

_Sob._

It was the most heartbreaking scene Derek could ever imagine in his life.

When Ed was done, he carried Addison back to her spot on the floor and pulled his pants up, gesturing for Carl to stand up. "Thanks for the company, doctors," he said, waiting for Carl to finish untying the rope on Derek's hands. It took all of Derek's strength to not punch him in the gut out of anger. He walked toward the door and they exited, bolting it tight again.

As soon as they were out of sight, Derek scrambled to his feet and rushed to Addison's side, picking her up and cradling her against his chest. He sobbed just as Addison did, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

"Addie…" he choked, holder her closer to keep her warm. "I'm sorry…"

Addison shook her head, clinging to Derek for dear life. "Not your fault," she cried through her tears. "Not… your… fault…"

"If I had it my way, Addie, they wouldn't have done this," he sobbed, reaching out to get Addison's clothes.

She sat up, allowing Derek to help her back into her blouse and skirt.

"Do you want me to…?" he questioned, referring to a quick check up on the damage.

She shook her head, pulling the skirt up herself and wrapping her arms around Derek again. "Just hold me, please."

He obliged, shrugging off his coat and laying it on Addison. "I'm right here, Addie. I'm right here," he repeated over and over again, the sobs wracking his body as much as it was Addison's.

"Make me forget. Please," she begged, the tears not seeming to stop falling. "Please. I want to forget it ever happened..."

Derek was at a loss. Although he promised her he would help her forget, he honestly didn't know where to start. The trauma was too fresh, for both of them. And he had no idea how to deal with a situation as that. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, determined to be stronger. "Addie…"

"Remember that time we went to your mom's for Christmas?" she prompted through her tears, her breath ragged.

Derek nodded. "The one when we went ice skating at Rockefeller?" he hiccupped.

She shook her head. "No… when we… When you took me to the cemetery to meet your dad?"

He closed his eyes, willing the memory to overcome him, and then nodded, stroking Addison's hair. "I took you there because I wanted him to meet the girl I was going to marry."

"We'd been dating only a year then. How'd you know?" she questioned, her breath still ragged and her tears still falling like an open faucet. She couldn't contain them. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread and hate off. She felt dirty, violated, hurt and disrespected. She couldn't process how things went from bad to worse, and worst in a few days.

Derek shrugged through his tears. "I just… knew. I knew I was going to marry you and that I was in it for forever."

She hiccupped, pulling her legs closer and letting Derek hold her tighter. "Are you still in it for forever?" she asked, wanting nothing more than to feel real comfort, and sincerity from Derek.

He didn't hesitate, knowing that he meant everything he said if he didn't think about it too much. "I still am," he promised, kissing her forehead softly. "Just breathe, Addie," he coaxed, himself needing the breathing exercise. "We'll be okay, I promise," not quite sure if he was reassuring Addison or himself.

-

"I have another proposition for you, Anthony," Peter said.

Anthony sighed, noting the tensed silence in the room. Peter was on speakerphone, though he didn't know that. And the police and the best attorneys in town were in the same room, listening. The police tried to track the number down, but it was secured and they could find no lead. "Go ahead."

"200 Million dollars," he said simply. "I give your daughter back, and your son in law back, and you drop all charges against me."

Anthony's eyes widened. "I don't have 200 Million Dollars. Believe me, if I had it, I would've given it to you in a heart beat."

"Too bad then. I'm not changing my mind this time. 200 million dollars for your daughter. But here's the catch," he said, smiling against the phone.

"What?"

"It should be in by tomorrow. Same place, same conditions, 24 hours from now. For every hour until our designated meeting time, I take something of your daughter's. If you're not in by 7:00pm at that highway tomorrow, she's dead."

His jaw dropped. This man basically said his daughter had 24 hours to live unless he found 200 million dollars in a day. "I… please. Don't hurt her."

"Too late, Attorney. My men and I have just had fun with her."

He felt as if his heart had stopped beating in his chest, like he had a heart attach and it killed him in an instant. Behind him, Bizzy tried her hardest not to make a sound as silent tears fell from her eyes. "Dear god… please…. Don't hurt her more."

"Like I said, 24 hours. For each hour that passes, I take something from her… or do something with her. Whichever way you want it put. At exactly 7:00 pm tomorrow, Seattle time, if you're not here, or if you're not alone, your precious kids are dead." With that, he hung up, leaving everyone in the room stunned.

-

Richard Webber looked at the policemen filling his office. All of Seattle Grace was informed of the Shepherds' disappearance, and were requested to speak up about anything they thought would help find them. The police and FBI came about 5 hours ago, interviewing the staff, investigating the parking lot and skid marks on the ground.

"Anything?"

Detective Sanders sighed. "All we have are the skid marks, and the surveillance video. The video just shows a black van, which we're having processed in accordance with the tire marks it left. Other than that, it's Peter Jones' record."

"Have you gotten in touch with his family?"

The detective shook his head. "We're trying to locate them. But rest assured chief, we're doing everything in our power to find them."

The chief shook his head. "You know about the deadline right?"

Sanders nodded. "Yes, and we also know which highway he's talking about. We're having the place monitored for suspicious activity, and we're situating our men out there."

"But his conditions—"

"We know about the conditions, sir. But my men are well trained. They can hide out there for months without anybody noticing them."

"Peter Jones is a smart man, Detective. He knows everything about the Shepherds."

He nodded. "We're not underestimating his intelligence. But you have to understand that without proper security in the area, we might never be able to retrieve both Doctors Shepherd."

"24 hours."

"Yes sir."

"We can outsmart him in 24 hours?"

The detective sighed. "I'm not going to lie to you, chief. We've never had a case as high profile as this. But the Washington State Police is fully equipped and well trained to handle situations like this, or any situation for that matter. As long Atty. Montgomery finds the 200 million dollars, and as long as this Jones guy isn't bluffing, there's a good chance we'll be able to retrieve them, sir."

"But… you'll try to find where they are before 7pm, right? He's going to hurt Addison."

"Like I said, we're doing the best we can."

-

"Is it really about the money, boss?" Carl asked, opening himself a bottle of beer.

"Of course it isn't. It's never about the money."

"So this is still about revenge?"

Peter nodded. "Like I have any use for 200 million dollars. I was just looking for a good excuse to finish her off."

"He's a rich man. He'll find 200 million dollars."

"It's a bait," Ed nudged.

He nodded again. "It's a bait," he confirmed.

* * *

Hope you guys liked it. Thank you for reading. I swear that the chapters after this are... going to get the plot moving, finally.


	6. Chapter 5

AN: First of all, I have to say... that the reviews are awesome and totally heartwarming. :) I'm glad people are responding to this story. :) I'm sorry it has a grim the plot. The sadist in me (which i never knew existed) is showing. Hahaha. But rest assured, I love happy endings and this one's going to be no exception (for now, at least). Thank you so much for all the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

-I still own nothing. :|

* * *

"What about Addison's trust fund?" Bizzy suggested, pacing Richard Webber's room. They took the first flight out of Hartford and to Seattle the moment Anthony hung up on Peter. They wanted to be closer so that at least they felt as if they were moving forward. "Can't we touch Addison's trust fund?"

"It's in her name. We can't touch it."

Bizzy sighed. "You're a lawyer. You can work your way around it. And we're millionaires, Anthony. Where the hell did all our money go?"

"It's there, Bizzy. We just haven't thought about all the nooks and crannies we put it in."

"What about the money daddy kept for me?"

"What money?", he asked in confusion. Anthony didn't know about any sum of money Mr. Forbes kept for his daughter which Bizzy had kept from him.

Bizzy blushed. "For me and Addie and Archer, actually. I just… never told you."

Anthony's jaw clenched. "This is exactly why we got divorced in the first place. You always keep things from me. Things as big as _this_."

"Well maybe if you'd been home more then 5 minutes a day, I could've trusted you with the things I consider sacred," she snapped back.

"Money is sacred to you?" Disbelief laced his tone, emphasizing every syllable.

"It is because it's the only thing that was constant in my life," she shot back. "It has 150 million dollars for _each_ of us. It was what I was going to give to Addie and Archie after I die." Although it wasn't something people would consider loving, money was one of the only things Bizzy grew up with, so it was but fitting to leave the same thing as legacy for Archer and Addison. Her father had kept 450 Million Dollars in a secured volt for his daughter and grandchildren. This was apart from the money he originally gave when he first died, an amount big enough to purchase the Empire State Building thrice over.

Anthony's jaw fell open, his eyes widening. "And it never occurred to you to tell me you had this sort of money a while ago? Maybe now we could've been concentrating on finding Addison rather than finding the money."

Bizzy huffed. "This isn't about the money, Tony. This is about our daughter being in grave danger. We have to find her. Besides, the money was none of your concern, not until now when we're desperate to find 200M in cash."

Richard stood up, deciding he could no longer wait and watch the former Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery bicker over whatever inheritance Bizzy got from her father. He shook his head at the irony of it all. It seemed as if the former Montgomery couple had a lot in common with the Shepherd couple. _Damn genes_, he muttered. "I think, Tony, Bizzy, that we should focus on setting up a master plan to find them," he suggested firmly. He looked at them both in a way that subtly said that they needed to grow up and act like adults. He ushered them to their seats and let Detective Sanders in.

"Detective, this is Mr. Anthony Montgomery," he gestured. "And his wife—"

"Ex-wife," Bizzy and Anthony corrected simultaneously.

"Ex-wife," Richard amended. "Beatrice Forbes."

Bizzy extended her hand to shake the detective's. "You can call me Bizzy," she said, and then took a seat.

Detective Sanders nodded, and took a seat adjacent to Addison's parents. "We understand that the condition was to find 200 million dollars by 7:00pm tonight, is that right?"

Anthony nodded. "We have the money," he said, eyeing Bizzy warily.

"And that he would… hurt Addison every hour until the designated time?"

He gulped and nodded again. "Yes, that's correct."

Sanders looked grave as he opened his briefcase and pulled a brown paper bag. He looked cautiously at everyone before showing them the side of the bag. It read:

_For Anthony Montgomery_

_-P.J._

"This was left at the police station late this evening. No one noticed anything. It was found by one of our men."

"What's in it?" Webber asked, his foot tapping anxiously on the tiled floor.

He opened the top of the brown paper bag and spilled the contents on the coffee table. Her wedding ring and her engagement ring, her SGH ID, her car keys and her wallet. This man had no desire for the money or material possessions. He could have made a fortune with Addison's engagement ring alone.

Bizzy reached out and fingered Addison's wedding bands, tears once again forming in her eyes. Seeing those items scattered on the table made the situation all the more real, as if they were returning the personal belongings of a soldier who died at war.

"It came with this, too," Sanders continued, pulling out an envelope.

_12:00 am_

_You have 17 hours left. I was merciful, don't you think? Just her material possessions? Wait til I get to her. _

_Don't think I don't know you've alerted the cops. I'm not afraid of them. Because whether or not they catch me, your daughter's mine and I could finish her off any time. _

_7:00 pm. Don't forget. _

_Your friend,_

_Peter_

"What do we do now?" Anthony asked, his voice full of worry and pent up anger. The note had stirred so many emotions in him that it was hard to pinpoint which one reigned over his body. "Have you gotten any leads?"

"We're trying to get fingerprints off of the bag in case it has any residue that could point us to where they are. But other than that, we're still pretty much stuck," he said apologetically, himself troubled by their lack of evidence.

"Any luck on the skid marks?"

Sanders shook his head. "No. We're still running it back at the lab, so we're hoping we get results in a couple of hours."

Richard nodded. "And Peter Jones' family?"

Sander smiled, remembering. "Now _that_ we have a lead on, courtesy of Mr. Montgomery's friend Atty. John Hamilton."

All of them looked at him encouragingly, urging him to go on. John Hamilton was known for being able to track down the most well hidden secrets. He was a good friend of Anthony's, and as soon as he got the call about Addison, he dug out any sort of information he could find about the family. He knew that if Addison was going to be used as bait, they could use his family to their advantage as well.

"Well?"

"Attorney Hamilton has located Peter's wife, Agatha Jones, living in Southern Connecticut. He took the liberty of having some of his men pay her a visit."

"What're we expecting out of it?"

Sanders shrugged. "Mr. Hamilton thinks we could use her against him, the way he's using Addison against you."

Bizzy furrowed her brow. "How?"

"I think," Richard said, "we could use his family as a threat. That if he doesn't release Addison and Derek unharmed, his family will pay for it."

"Something like that," the detective said. "We blackmail him, sort of."

"That's against the law," Anthony protested. "That's… illegal. You and I both know it's against protocol."

"Do you have any other suggestions, Atty. Montgomery?" Sanders questioned, himself knowing it was illegal but that it was the only way. With the best lawyers in all of America on their side, they would be able to win out a court case should Peter decide to use the blackmail against him.

Anthony was thoughtful for a moment, and then relented with a sigh. "Do it."

-

Her head was spinning, her body unable to comprehend what was happening. At the moment, she was lying on a cold metal table, her legs spread apart and tied to the table's legs, her arms the same way. She couldn't move her limbs, only her head and her trunk, but she couldn't control her movement.

She opened her eyes and squinted at the bright lights above her, much too bright to have her open her eyes completely. She felt small under its harsh glare, somehow understanding that she was weak and had no strength to fight against whatever it was that beheld her.

"Good to see you awake," Peter sneered. "You've been out cold for 15 minutes. But it feels like a lifetime, doesn't it?"

Addison furrowed her brow. "What happened?"

"We drugged you," he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You wouldn't remember any of it until later on. But," he said, walking over to the table and smoothing Addison's hair, "I'll tell you what happened. You and your husband were getting too cozy for my liking, so Carl had to put his hand over your mouth before you started screaming and cursing like you always do. But I think you already guessed that his hand was—"

"Doped with cytotoxic drugs," Addison finished, her eyes widening in terror. "Where's Derek?"

"Relax, Addie-bee. He's fine. He's right there, see?" he gestured, pointing to the stool on the far end of the room. On the stool, Derek sat, his legs tied to the stool's support, his hands tied behind him, and his mouth covered by a coiled piece of cloth that parted his lips roughly. He was struggling between Ed and Carl who were having fun spinning the stool and watching Derek squirm in protest.

"Oh my god," Addison whispered as she strained her neck to meet Derek's gaze. "Oh my god," she said again, louder this time. "What do you want from me?" she yelled, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

Peter shrugged. "Something of you to send to your father. Just so he knows you aren't dead yet. We sent him your wedding bands, by the way. I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes widened. "Something of me? Don't you think you've taken enough?" she said, her voice laced with pain. She was referring, of course, to her dignity, which the two men had so cruelly taken away from her earlier that evening. It was a good thing, however, that she hadn't lost all of her fighting spirit, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation.

Peter shook his head adamantly. "Taking away something so small from you isn't quite enough, Addison. Your father took away 25 years of my life. That's a big price to pay," he grunted, drawing out a knife from one of the drawers and holding it up to glimmer in the light, allowing Addison and Derek to see it clearly.

"What're you going to do with that?" Addison asked, her voice small and quivering.

He grinned. "Tell me, Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd… have you ever been operated on before in your life?"

Addison's eyes filled with more tears as she heard the stool Derek was on move and scrape against the concrete frantically. Derek's eyes widened in terror at the mere sight of the offensive object.

She started to struggle, her body trying to curve itself into a fetal position.

Derek whimpered, his eyes unable to stir away from the knife Peter held, the maniac grin on his face forever imprinted in his memory.

"Oh my god," Addison whispered. She swore to herself that after she'd gotten out of the hell hole, she's make sure he rotted for another 25 years in prison.

"I'll take that as a no." He took the knife and ran it across a piece of cloth, trying to clean it. But the knife was old and worn-out, rust and dirt covering its surface. It was no doubt very dull, something he had intentionally done so it would hurt more. "You see, being a surgeon yourself, you wouldn't really know how it is to be on the other side of things. So I'm teaching you a valuable lesson, something I hope you'd thank me for when the day comes."

Derek was screaming against the piece of cloth covering his mouth, hindering him from making sound other than soft whimpers. The wheels in his head were turning, every possibility with a knife being listed off, giving him no comfort. He wanted to hit him, to kill him over and over and over again, but he couldn't. He was weak compared to the forces they were reckoning with.

"Tonight, I'm the surgeon, and you're the patient. I take a piece of yourself, send it to your father, and let him know you're still alive." He paused, and then laughed sardonically.

"Please don't," Addison begged. "Tell me what I can do, but please… please don't hurt me. Don't hurt Derek… don't…" She had never begged much in her life, but seeing that it could end anytime soon, she really had no choice. Under other circumstances, she would've let the bitch in her reign supreme, but she couldn't because Derek would suffer the consequences of her actions. If it was just her, she'd have done it from the very beginning. But she had Derek to think about, and she couldn't stomach the idea of anyone hurting him.

"Unfortunately for you, Addison, that's not for you to decide." He moved painstakingly slow as he tried to clean the knife, running its rusty surface on an equally dirty towel. "Tell me, Addie-bee, what should my insertion point be if I want to make sure you're going to bleed to death _slowly_?"

Addison started to sweat, her fingers curling, her mind reciting prayers she hadn't thought of in years. She didn't answer, only continued to stare at him in fear, praying that Derek was smart not enough not to try to protect her. His chivalry would only mean the end of both of them.

"You really don't have to answer me, by the way. I told you I did my research, remember?" He cleared his throat. "There's a central artery running directly from your heart to your thigh. I suppose your thigh's a good place as any," he stated with a slight shrug. He stood up and walked to the table's side, grinning madly.

Slowly, he raised the knife, letting it glimmer slightly under the harsh overhead lights, and then carefully lowered it against Addison's body.

-

_2 hours later_

Agatha Jones sat directly in front of Anthony and Bizzy, her stance rigid and unrelenting.

"Please," Bizzy begged, probably for the first time in her life. "My daughter has done nothing wrong."

Agathe raised her brow. "You want me to help you? After what you did to our family? My husband did nothing wrong, either, but you had him thrown into jail. That's not exactly fair," she snapped bitterly.

"But he's going to kill her!" she exclaimed, the exasperation evident. "Take me, take Anthony. But don't hurt my daughter."

"We'll do anything," Anthony asserted. "Anything at all. But please, can you really live with the fact that your husband, _your husband_, killed my little girl for something _I_ did?"

Before Agatha could reply, the door to the room burst open, revealing a frenzied Detective Sanders and a couple of police officers behind him. He was carrying a black plastic container, his knuckles white from holding it every so tightly in his hands. The sweat on his brow doubled, and he looked nervously between Addison's parents.

"What is it, Detective?" Bizzy asked, her voice soft and calculated.

He shook his head. "It's not good. We have to take more major measures."

Agatha perked up, straightening her back and listening intently to the detective's words. She didn't know what her husband was capable of, didn't know how much he changed while behind bars. So the next couple of words the Detective released stunned her to the core.

"What do you mean?"

He gently handed the box to Bizzy, unsure. "Are you positive you're ready for anything? He left this at the station."

Bizzy closed her eyes, internalizing, and then nodded. "I'm ready." Taking a deep breath, she gingerly pried the lid off of the container and peered in, her heart stopping momentarily at the sight before her.

Inside the box was a chunk of red, bloody flesh, practically screaming pain and suffering. Its brightness was not welcome sight, but a reminder of the clock ticking every second.

Everyone in the room was silent, Anthony and Bizzy transfixed at the contents of the box before Bizzy dropped it as if she were burned. Her heart clenched and unclenched, her whole body feeling Addison's pain. She couldn't breathe, couldn't comprehend how all of this happened to her daughter. It would take a miracle for her to survive.

Tony looked pained, his tears falling freely as the guilt toppled him over. He turned to Agatha once more, his eyes pleading. "Please…"

Agatha saw the piece of flesh. She was revolted. She never imagined that her husband, her sweet and gentle husband, would be able to be so sadistic and punitive. Her lower lip quivered, her heart pounded, her whole body shook as she nodded fervently, her own head unwilling to shake off the image that lay before her. "He's doing this for me… for the kids. He…" she sighed, not knowing how to continue. She took a deep, calming breath and said. "The only way to get to him is through me. Use me," she declared. "Use me to get to him. But I beg of you… unless he… kills your daughter… have mercy on him. Please..."

Anthony and Bizzy nodded, their bodies unconsciously leaning towards each other for support.

"Use me," Agatha repeated, her heart aching for Addison's parents.

* * *

I promise to update soon! But thank you so much for reading and I hope you like it. :)


	7. Chapter 6

AN: Hello everyone! Thanks for all the awesome reviews! :) I'd like to thank falmur for the meaningful suggestions she gave to me regarding this chapter. I edited it upon her advice, and I hope you all like it. (Thanks so much again, falmur. I hope you keep the suggestions coming.)

Just the same though, thanks everyone for all your encouragement. This has surely been one of the most interesting things I've written, all thanks to you. :) All of you ROCK!

Thanks for reading guys and I hope you like this chapter.

-I own nothing.

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"It's almost 7," Peter remarked, eyeing Derek scrambling to control the bleeding and prevent infection on Addison's thigh. It was a painful process, one that involved Derek being hit unconscious by Ed due to his incessant struggles and Addison fainting out of pain. If it weren't for the fact that Addison was in immediate danger, Derek would've taken advantage of his unbounded hands and beat the crap out of the men.

He motioned for Ed and Carl to take Addison and Derek to the van. "We're leaving. We move in to the highway and we watch out for anything out of the ordinary. Be sure to be alert. The police are going to be hounding us. We take the girl and hold her until her father lays the money on the ground, exactly 25 yards away from her. Then you," he gestured to Carl, "let go of Derek Shepherd. You," he gestured to Ed, "grab the older man and we speed off."

"We leave Derek there?" Ed questioned.

Peter nodded. "Anthony Montgomery will take his place, don't worry. But not until we get a souvenir," he grinned. "If everything goes as planned, we leave the highway and make sure no one's following us, and we drive back here."

"Is this the part where we finish them off?"

"Both of them," Peter confirmed. "Right here."

-

Anthony shifted as he drove his car, checking the directions he was given another time. They had decided he would drive there alone while the FBI followed closely. Look-outs were already positioned in the area, and Agatha Jones was to ride with Detective Sanders and Bizzy. His hand shook as he gripped the wheel tightly, praying that whatever plan they had agreed upon would work.

He turned the corner and found himself at the exact spot Peter had told him to go to. It truly was deserted, like a horror movie straight out of Hollywood. There was nothing but concrete everywhere, the Seattle skyline like light-years away. He was certain that if anything gruesome happened tonight, no one would know from days on out. It was a good thing, however, that there were trained men already positioned in the place, hidden so well that even he could not see them.

Stepping on the brake, he reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead, his other hand unconsciously setting on top of the briefcase that held the 200 million dollars. That afternoon, they had come up with plans A-Z; plans that were according to the things they could possibly anticipate. To him, tonight was a turning point, and if Peter still managed to outsmart them, he would be damned for good.

He was, however, thankful that there were no more packages sent to them for the remainder of the day. He didn't know if he could have survived through it. Her personal belongings and a part of her flesh were enough to drive him insane, but he had to hold on to the hope that they would find her, get her to safety, and prosecute the man on time.

-

The ride to the empty highway was uneventful. It seemed that for more or less an hour, Peter, Carl and Ed had grown a heart, considerate enough not to eavesdrop or take notice of Addison and Derek at the back of the van.

Derek cradled Addison against his chest, his whole body like jelly from all the beatings he had sustained hours before. That, coupled with the fact that they had not eaten and had been severely maltreated made him feel exhausted and weary, and all together near hopeless. He stroked Addison's hair unconsciously, thankful that for now, he had stopped the bleeding on her thigh.

Peter had cut off a huge chunk of it, almost the size of a fist. Derek had to use part of his shirt and his entire coat to put pressure and relieve the bleeding. She had fainted in the middle of it, from the pain he had guessed, and he would have died right there and then too if he weren't thinking about Addison's welfare.

It was remarkable; how he had gone from completely indifferent to wholly devoted and caring in a matter of hours. In two days, he managed to take a 180-degree turn. It frustrated him that it took all of this for him to realize Addison's worth, but he was thankful that all hope for a brighter future was not lost. He vowed to spend the rest of his life proving his love to Addison, standing by her side through everything and loving her the way he should have in the first place.

She was awake, but was hurting too much to speak. She could barely move her leg, could barely stand up and support her own weight. The beatings, the violation, the lack of food and a hospitable environment were taking its toll on her, and she was in worse shape than Derek was.

"This is going to end soon, Addie," Derek whispered, his voice hitching in his throat. "We're on our way to meet with your dad. They'll set up a negotiation, I think. And you're going to be okay. _We're_ going to be okay." His effort was futile, however. Addison merely nodded and closed her eyes, knowing she was bleeding slowly. She had lost a lot of blood, and it would take a miracle for her to survive through the night.

"We'll be okay," he repeated. "I… I'm sorry, Addison."

She looked up, her eyes meeting his and recognizing the anguish behind the calm and collected façade he tried to convey. She reached her hand up, even if took so much of her strength and stroked his face. "What for?" she whispered softly, running her fingers along his jaw.

He shook his head, unable to keep his own tears at bay. "For not being able to protect you."

There was so much raw pain in his voice that everything else almost seemed to fade for Addison. It wasn't his fault. None of this could've been his fault. If any, he was the reason she was holding on now. "Don't be. You could've done nothing either way. They could've killed you."

"I'm your husband, Addison. It's in the vows; to love you and to cherish you and to be there for you through thick and thin." He paused, gathering his thoughts as he choked back his sobs. "I'm a failure."

It was Addison's turn to shake her head, ignoring the spinning sensation that suddenly enveloped her whole body. "You're not," she said firmly. "You may have had your fair share of mistakes, but it doesn't mean you failed me."

"I failed both of us. I stopped caring. I stopped fighting. I stopped believing in _us_."

"Then I failed both of us as well," she declared. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for Meredith. I shouldn't have started a relationship with her in the first place. I shouldn't have… hurt you that way. I'm sorry about New York. I'm sorry I ignored you. I'm sorry for walking away when I caught you with Mark. I'm sorry I didn't fight or gave you a chance to explain. But more than anything, I'm sorry that I even pushed you away and gave you reason to hurt. I'm sorry."

Addison gulped, her face paling considerably at his sentiment. She knew it was more than his words that caused her to feel in pallor, but she couldn't help but think that their reconciliation was too late. She knew in her heart tonight was going to be a fate-deciding night, and patching things up with Derek made the situation all the more real. Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she mustered all the strength she could to reach up and kiss him gently on the lips. She pulled away after a second, Derek's taste fading in her lips. It was too fast a kiss, one that didn't seal anything between them because she barely felt it. But it was a kiss still, and it was the product of the strength she sacrificed even though she needed it badly for later.

"Addie," he whispered, his tone soft and calming.

"I'm sorry, too," Addison croaked. "I'm sorry I broke your heart," she said simply. She knew those few words encompassed every hurt, every pain, every suffering she had subjected Derek to in the past months. She knew that in breaking his heart, she had broken hers too, and that no apology could ever heal that unless they both truly forgave each other. "I'm sorry I don't deserve to be the love of your life. At least, not anymore."

Derek shook his head firmly, tightening his embrace and willing her to believe it wasn't true. "I don't believe that. You're the love of my life and you'll always deserve to be that. Nothing can ever change that fact."

"But I hurt you," she protested meekly.

"It doesn't matter. We hurt each other. But please… don't ever imply to you aren't good enough. Because if either one of us isn't good enough for the other, it's me. I don't deserve your love, Addison."

Peter turned his head from where he was seated and eyed the couple, his heart clenching at the pure and honest love that emanated from them. And then, as if by force, a wave of jealousy enclosed him, and all his pent up rage started to bubble beneath the heart he seemed to grow in the past half hour. He balled fists and roughly moved aside, pulling Derek by the feet and causing him to let go of his hold on Addison.

"What the--" Derek was startled out of his intimate talk with Addison by the forceful pulling on his feet followed by Addison wincing in pain as her head hit the van's floor lightly.

Peter's breaths were ragged and shallow, his face contorting in anger. He stared down at Derek, his whole frame towering over the doctor's body now laying down on the van and fighting to get up. He put a heavy restraining hand on Derek's shoulder before motioning for Ed to move from his place and assist him.

The moment Addison realized what was happening, she struggled to get up, her leg twitching at the sudden movement. As she regained her balance, she started clawing madly at Peter, all of a sudden not caring that they were in potential harm. What mattered was that Derek was surely going to be the subject of the man's torture and she couldn't stomach the idea. But as soon as Ed took his place, restraining Derek's hands, Peter grabbed on to her hair and yanked it, pulling her skin with so much force that tears started to well in her eyes.

Derek, for his part, fidgeted and kicked hard at Peter as Ed held on to his arms. He didn't care where his feet hit, all that mattered was that he hit the son of a bitch in any way he could. It was the first time either of them retaliated and paid no heed to the logic their brains had been shouting at them. There was chaos at the back of that van as Addison clawed, Peter pulled, Derek kicked and Ed suppressed. And for a moment, the vehicle was filled with sounds of struggling, of panting, or cursing and belittling.

"Stop hitting me you bitch!" Peter yelled, his whole body shaken with anger and hostility.

Addison ignored the pain searing from her lower body and continued to pinch and claw at Peter, her heart pounding against her chest. "I hope you rot in hell!" she screamed. "You and your good for nothing creeps! You deserve to die! You deserve to--"

Smack! Peter had lifted a heavy hand and slapped her point blank on the cheek, causing Addison to yelp in surprise and retract her hands, her palms automatically cupping the side of her face. Peter pushed her aside roughly, elbowing her ribs and turning his attention back to Derek. Gone was the faux calmness, the pseudo tolerance. In place of that man was a monster, twice more frigtening than the man who had initially imprisoned them. His whole body heaved in anger, his whole being radiating determination and mercilessness.

Derek kicked harder, faster, his legs tiring but not once giving in to the exhaustion. He saw what Peter did to Addison, and he was filled with renewed strength to fight. Unfortunately for him, however, with his upper limbs lost, he could only do so much until Peter tied his legs together tightly, the rough rope scraping against his skin and pulling it raw.

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a swiss knife, one that was as big as his palm, and extended the different parts of it until he came upon the wine screw. Suddenly, his face shone with delight and cynical enthusiasm before being masked by a dark and grim look that spelled trouble. He grunted, staring at the swirled metal, coiled and twisted just like his being.

"You're not the only one who gets a souvenir," he sneered at Addison, raising his hand and, like a bolt of lightning, stabbed Derek in the stomach.

Derek recoiled in pain, as Addison threw herself over Peter to try to stop the beating. But he only pushed her away so roughly before lowering it again forcefully against Derek's trunk.

"This is for my family!" he yelled, stabbing him once more.

"Stop!" Addison yelled, her eyes filling with tears at seeing Derek's expression.

"This is for my land!" he yelled again, lowering it another time, piercing Derek's skin deeper than the previous time. He breathed heavily, his body shaking in revenge.

He raised his hand again, his fist clutching the army knife tighter and tighter, his knuckles turning white. "This is for being with a woman we all know you don't deserve!" he shouted, remembering his own wife, her pretty face clouding his vision as he took another stab at Derek.

In retrospect, the wounds were not at all deep, but they were extensive, and hit Derek in parts he didn't know existed. That, coupled with the twisted body of Peter's weapon of choice made the pain thrice as much, sinking in to his skin with so much force and tearing his flesh from outside in. Derek bled, his body convulsing slightly in shock.

"Addison," he whispered, trying to feel his hand for Addison's. But before he could move another inch, the weapon hit him once more on the chest, close to his heart. The blow was hard that he was sure he had a fractured sternum.

"This is for not appreciating your wife when she stood by your side through _everything_! Have you no idea how much I would have given up a thousand lives to have spent the past 25 years of my life beside my own wife? And here you are, taking her for granted as if she weren't human! You're a sick son of a bitch for treating her horribly!"

"Stop!" Addison yelled again, her body shaking with fear at the man who was hurting her husband. "Stop!"

Peter turned to her, disbelief written across his face. "You want me stop?" he bellowed. "You want me to stop hurting the man who hurt you? If you were my daughter," he said, his heart clenching at the memory of his own daughter. "If you were my daughter, I would've killed the bastard who treated you this way!" taking another jab at Derek.

It went on and on and on until Derek had sustained about 30 stabs, blood oozing from his shirt and and coating Peter's hand, spraying the back of the van. Peter breathed heavily before wiping the sweat off of his forehead, grunting to tell Ed to release him. The burly man obliged and ignored Addison crawling frantically to Derek's side, tearing off a part of her blouse and skirt to act as a bandage on Derek's ruined stomach. The first thing she had checked was if it had punctured a lung or his heart. But upon initial inspection, she was thankful that the blows were concentrated near his belly button. She pressed her hand on Derek's forehead, wiping the sweat and blood off of it and kissing him gently.

"Derek?" she whispered softly, her voice quivering.

Derek rolled his head and opened his eyes, staring at her with so much love in his eyes. It didn't matter that his whole body ached and that he was weak, or bleeding so profusely that he could die any second. What mattered at the moment was Addison genuinely worried about him. "Addie," he called. "I love you..."

Addison nodded, taking Derek's hand in hers and bringing it to her lips. "Hold on, okay Der? Hold on, for me."

-

Anthony stood in the middle of the highway, the briefcase resting by his foot as he tapped against the concrete nervously. He could felt like he was being watched, no doubt by the police officers, his wife and Agatha Jones. But he couldn't draw comfort from that. He couldn't until he saw Addison alive and well, with Derek unharmed too.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the roaring of a black van approaching, its headlights blinding him for a moment before he lifted his hand to shield him from the light. His heart started to beat faster, his whole body tensing at the sight of it. He knew who was inside of the van, and but he didn't know what was to befall them all. It stopped about 100 yards from him, the door sliding open and revealing Peter Jones in a black ensemble.

"Anthony Montgomery," he bellowed, laughing sadistically. "It's great to see you again," he said, lifting his feet and walking ever so slowly towards him.

"Where my daughter?" Anthony asked, his voice more confident than he felt.

"Patience, my friend. She'll be with you shortly." For a moment, there was no sound but the rhythmic beat of Peter's feet walking to him.

It was a miracle, despite Peter's flawless plans so far, that he didn't notice the members of the force hidden but watching him carefully. Anthony could only breathe a sigh of relief.

"Do you have the money?" he questioned.

Anthony nodded, bending down to pick up the briefcase. "It's right here," he declared, opening the briefcase and revealing the bundles of dollar bills neatly stacked inside of it. "200 million dollars in cash, right here. Now where's my daughter?"

Peter stopped about 50 yards away from him, grinning. "Carl! Ed!" he shouted, his voice echoing all over the place. "Come out," he barked.

And then, as if a scene out of a movie, the silhouette of two burly men came into view as they exited the van, each them roughly pulling a person, of them gripping Addison tightly by the wrist, the other practically dragging Derek out of the van.

Anthony's eyes widened, seeing his daughter leaning heavily against the burly man treating her roughly. She was weak he could tell, but she was fighting to be strong. Their eyes met briefly before both Addison and Derek were shoved forward, Derek almost tripping over but Addison breaking his fall just barely.

Behind a large post, Bizzy and Agatha watched, their breaths hitched at the scene unfolding before them. Bizzy's heart ached as she watched her daughter, the makeshift bandages on her leg and the over-all frailty that she exuded almost too much for her to bear. That, and the sight of Derek's bloody shirt made her whole body tremble with fear and worry. Agatha placed a gentle, comforting hand on Bizzy, her eyes welling with tears.

"Just wait," Agatha said, her eyes transfixed at her husband, her mind trying to comprehend how he had changed so drastically.

Bizzy could only nod.

In front of them, Addison and Derek were held in line with Peter, Addison's eyes meeting her father's. Her emerald orbs welled with tears at the sight of him, her whole body longing to be comforted by his strong and loving arms.

"For a while longer," Anthony mouthed to her, trying his best to not run right there and then to embrace his daughter tightly.

She nodded, and tilted her head to Derek, her eyes reassuring him. He was weak, too weak to even hold his body upright by himself. He was leaning heavily against Peter's minion as he fought to stay strong.

"The money," Peter said. "I want you to walk slowly to here," he gestured. "I want your hands up where I can see them."

Anthony obliged, raising his hands as he carried the briefcase over his head, taking slow and measured steps closer to his daughter and her captor. When he came almost face to face with Peter, he lowered his hands and outstretched the briefcase, handing it over.

"I want my daughter first before I give you the money," he said, his eyes narrowing in seriousness. But then he caught a glimpse of Derek's blood soaked shirt and his head hanging in exhaustion. His heart beat sporadically in his chest at the sight.

Peter laughed. "Aren't you excited, Attorney." But nevertheless, he gestured for Carl, who was holding Derek, to get ready. He reached his hand out suddenly and grabbed the briefcase, everything unfolding in slow motion and in fast forward all at the same time. It happened so quickly, that before Anthony could realize it, the briefcase was snatched out of his hands and Derek was thrown to the ground forcefully, Carl rushing to take hold of Anthony and shoving him to the ground as well.

"What the—"

Addison started to scream, seeing Derek hit his face against the concrete, drawing blood from his forehead and his chin. Her heart beat frantically, seeing her father being pulled much like the way she was handled when she was first kidnapped.

Peter only smiled and walked to Derek, kicking him the stomach before ordering his men to take Addison and Anthony back to the van and to leave Derek on the ground.

They were on the move, Peter behind them on the lookout when all of a sudden—

"Peter!" someone yelled, catching his attention. The sound was so sweet, so familiar, like home that he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him.

And then it came again. "Peter!"

He turned around, and his eyes widened at the sight of his wife running across the concrete highway, her eyes frantic, her hair blowing in the night wind.

"Stop!" she cried, her voice strained.

"Agatha," he whispered, still not believing she was there.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Anthony nudged Carl forcefully on the ribs and ran, punching Ed in the face and succeeding in releasing Addison from his surly bonds. Both burly men toppled over slightly, and Anthony took Addison and willed her to run, shielding her body with his.

But upon realizing what was happening, Peter snapped back to reality and ignored his wife still running towards him. He bent down and drew his small pistol from shoe, stumbling slightly but regaining balance as he pointed the gun directly at Anthony.

"Peter!"

"Anthony!" Bizzy cried, her fear evident at seeing the gun Peter held in his hands.

Peter wasted no time and pulled the trigger, the loud crack echoing across the place as Anthony turned around in time for the bullet to swerve past him.

He had missed. And for that, Anthony was thankful.

But the gratitude was short-lived as Derek, now standing erect but just barely, saw Peter pulling the trigger once again, aiming at Addison's form sheltered unsuccessfully by Anthony's, and he jumped so far in a heroic act of chivalry, jumping right beside Anthony and Addison and shoving them to the side, placing him on the bullet's clear path.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Addison's bloodcurling scream of terror.

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Tell me what you think and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! 3


	8. Chapter 7

AN: I have to admit, this chapter has gone through a lot of revisions, and I'm still not completely happy with it. I thought long and hard about how I wanted to continue the story, and this is what came to mind (or really, the one that I feel most compelled to). So yeah.

Thanks all for the reviews! I'm so glad with all the responses I got regarding Derek's cliffy. Hahaha. But yea. Thank you so much for the reviews! They have all made my day. :) Hope you like this chapter and happy reading!

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"Get them and go!" Peter yelled, gesturing frantically for Carl and Ed to take action. They followed hurriedly, grabbing Anthony and Addison and throwing them on their shoulders, throwing them forcefully into the van. Peter ran, giving one last imploring look at Agatha before hopping in, speeding off with Anthony and Addison in tow.

Detective Sanders cursed heavily. Things weren't supposed to go this way. They were supposed to have everything under control. How could they have not taken action while it was early? Before the running and shooting happened?

"Dispatch a team to track that van down before it gets out of sight!" he barked, members of the force obliging. Only a second later, the blaring of sirens echoed across the highway and disappeared into the direction of the van.

Bizzy ran right away from her spot, crouching beside Derek and calling 911, her heart pounding at the sudden development. Not only was Addison still in danger, her ex-husband was too. And this time, because Peter knew of Agatha, his anger would be less contained. and he would be more intent on hurting them.

"Derek, honey?" she whispered, her voice motherly and laced with concern.

He didn't stir a bit. He was unconscious and bleeding from the back, and on his stomach. Bizzy knew that without immediate medical attention, Derek, the man her daughter loved with all her heart, would die right there then.

"Derek, don't do this," she cried, willing the ambulance to get there quickly. She took his hand and held on to it, turning him over so he was lying on his back. "You gotta fight this, Derek. Don't… go into the light or whatever you believe in." She felt slightly silly for saying that, but she needed Derek to be okay.

And then, only a minute after, the wailing of the distant ambulance caught her hearing, and she breathed a sigh of momentary relief.

The ambulance settled about 5 yards away from them, two men and a stretcher coming out of it.

"We got it Ma'am," the man said, grunting as they loaded Derek on to the stretcher gently.

"Oh, don't you need his information?" Bizzy asked, desperate for a distraction from the danger her husband and daughter were still in. "I'm Beatrice _Forbes_," she emphasized. "I'm his mother-in-law."

The man nodded, motioning for Bizzy to hop into the ambulance with them as they asked her questions and stabilized him. She obliged, her heart still pounding.

"His name's Derek Shepherd, 35 years old. He's a doctor at Seattle Grace Hospital, a neurosurgeon. He has no allergies, except for strawberries. But that's not really a drug allergy," she babbled. "How is he?"

No one answered her as they tried frantically to stop the bleeding. He was losing blood too fast, and they couldn't initiate a blood transfusion until he was sewed up.

Bizzy's face paled. The sheets were bloody, Derek's whole body was bloody, the hands, the gloves, almost everything was covered in blood. She wanted to throw up, but she held it in in hopes of being of some help to those who were trying to save Derek's life.

"How is he?" she asked again, nearing the hospital.

The paramedic shook his head. "We don't know yet, but it's not looking good. He's going to need a lot of surgery on his chest area because of those stabs."

"And the gunshot?"

"That too," he confirmed. "Good news though is that the bullet didn't hit his spinal cord so our biggest worry has been surpassed."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he still has his motor skills. So if he survives this, he's still going to be the man you know him to be. But like I said, it's not looking too good."

Bizzy nodded. "_If_ he survives this," she whispered to herself, taking hold of Derek's hand.

-

Peter cursed loudly as he noticed the police cars hot on their tail. They were now driving dangerously fast on the regular freeway, a potential threat to everyone on the same road as them. He swerved madly across lanes, his speed reaching 200 kilometers per hour. But the cops weren't a let down. They simply tread the way he had paved as he moved in hopes of escaping them.

At the back of the van, Anthony was busy trying to get his hands free from the tight hold Ed had on him. Addison, on the other hand, was too weak to move and lay on the van floor, her breathing shallow.

"Let go of me, please," Anthony begged. "I won't do anything stupid. I just want to hold my daughter."

Ed grunted, still not releasing his tight hold. "I don't exactly trust you. You can watch your daughter from here."

"Don't fight it, Daddy," Addison whispered, her voice small, childlike. "You'll need the strength for later."

Anthony shook his head. "What did they do to you? I promise Addison, they're going to pay for this." He made sure his voice was loud enough for everyone in the van to hear. But no one cared for they were sure Peter would get away from the cops.

The van swerved angrily again, rougher than all the other swerves, and everyone in the back of the van momentarily lost their balance. Anthony had, for a moment, been released from Ed's strong grasp, but Carl quickly took his place, locking Anthony back in position. He sighed, seeing Addison almost still on the floor. She was too weak and too injured to be in a situation like this.

"Addie-bee, I want you to stay awake," he said, pleading. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to fight that sleep. Please."

"I'm trying, dad," she said honestly, her eyes fluttering open and close as she struggled to stay awake. "But maybe I should just let go."

"Don't!" Anthony exclaimed, his heart clenching in worry. "You listen here, young lady. You're not going to do anything other than stay awake. Do you hear me? Derek did a good job at bandaging your thigh. You did a good job staying strong for the past 3 days. Now I need you to do your best and stay awake."

Addison closed her eyes tightly, her tears falling as she couldn't contain them anymore. "Derek," she whispered. "I'm not even sure he's going to be okay. I dragged him into this mess. He doesn't deserve any of the treatment he received."

"Think about Derek later, honey. Your mom's got him, I'm sure. For all you know, he's at the hospital, everyone scrambling to save his life. He's going to be fine," he said firmly, even though he knew Addison didn't believe him. He didn't believe himself either. Derek being okay was too farfetched at the moment, unless a miracle happened and the bullet didn't kill him all at once.

"Fuck it!" Peter yelled as he swerved again, helicopters now buzzing overhead. They were completely surrounded. But he kept on driving, not allowing himself to give up. He longed for comfort amid the pounding of his heart and dangerous situation he was in. And so for a moment, he was distracted by the image of Agatha in his head, standing before him as she did moments ago, a haunted expression on her beautiful face. He sighed, his heart heavy at disappointing the woman he was doing all of this for. All he wanted was to give Agatha the life he failed to when Anthony Montgomery had locked him up. And now, he was facing charged he himself could not account for. The image of her face was a welcome thought.

It appeared, however, that the distraction was enough to drive his attention away from the vehicle he was running. And before he could realize it, he sent the car speeding too fast on such a busy highway right by the Seattle waterway. And before he could take action due to his lack of focus, the vehicle was already spinning madly, and in trying to prevent the van from hitting another car, he turned the steering wheel largely to the right, effectively locking it in place. The action had sent the van spinning out of control, toppling over due to the high speed it was running on before it tried to get the free itself from the locked position.

And then, as soon as Peter and the rest of them had the time to process what was happening, the van had slammed onto the side rails of the road, sending the vehicle down to the fiery waters below them. It crashed on the rocky Seattle waterway in a heap of black and orange, small flames starting to build up as it hit the dark waters forcefully.

-

Preston Burke stared at the patient before him, nervous for the first time in his life. The patient wasn't just a random person who needed a heart transplant or a valve replacement. No. The person laying on front of him was a man he considered his friend, a man everyone at the room assisting on the operation knew. It was Derek. And even though he was stable at the moment, the chances of him surviving the operation with so little strength were slim.

He sighed, eyeing Meredith who was standing adjacent to him. She was stunned, to say the least, her eyes in a trance-like state of pure shock. To her, seeing Derek on the table, bleeding and fighting for his life was almost too much to handle. But she wanted to help. She wanted to know for herself that everyone was doing their best to save the man she loved dearly.

She couldn't help but feel a pang of anger towards Addison. When they had found out about the kidnapper's motifs, bitterness coursed through her, as well as severe pity for Derek. He wasn't supposed to be in this game. He wasn't supposed to be part of the equation. And yet, because he cared for his wife too much, he was suddenly on the verge of dying, and she couldn't help it much.

Burke cleared his throat. "Are you ready everyone?" he said, his eyes narrowing in on Meredith. It was obvious that the question was meant for her.

Everyone nodded, including Meredith. So he stretched his hand out, eyeing the scrub nurse beside him. "Scalpel."

-

"Detective Sanders? We have a situation out here," the policeman said through the walkie-talkie, watching as some of the men jumped into the water in an attempt to get the people out.

"What happened?" he asked, still on his way to the hospital with Agatha in tow.

The cop hastily relayed the happenings of the past few minutes, his voice fighting to be calm.

There was silence on the other end before the cop heard the loud screeching of the car as Detective Sanders turned around, driving to their location. "Has an ambulance been dispatched?" he said hurriedly, already thinking of his next course of action.

"They're on their way here, sir," the cop replied. "But you have to know, the van's sinking pretty fast. Diego and some other men are making a dive for it."

"Good. Remember, your priority's Anthony and Addison. Make sure they're pulled out first."

-

Addison struggled as water rapidly filled the van interior. Peter was unconscious and bleeding, Carl and Ed seemed to have taken the saying "every man for himself" to heart, and her father looked like he was having a heart attach.

She swam against the cold water, reaching her father as a sudden rush of adrenaline coursed through her body.

"Dad? Dad, stay with me. Dad!"

Anthony nodded, taking in deep breaths as Addison tried to unlock the van door. In her haste, she couldn't register the fact that it was locked, and in her panic, water filled it so rapidly that their heads were fully submerged in its murderous bonds.

They held their breaths, both of them fighting to unlock the door while trying to stay calm. They were both bleeding as well, from the impact. But it didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was getting out of the water and getting a breath of fresh air.

It seemed like forever before she started to feel dizzy at the lack of oxygen, her strength failing her. She turned her head to her father who was almost in the same state as she was in.

And then, before she passed out completely, she felt the door slip open and an urgent tug on her body, propelling her upward.

-

"34 year old female, Addison Montgomery Shepherd. We're trying to revive her after the car she was in fell into the water. She passed out. She's terribly weak, with lacerations on her lower body and intense bleeding. We're guessing lots of internal injury from the fall," the dispatcher said, his gaze never once leaving Addison's pale body as the paramedics tried to resuscitate her.

One of them turned to the dispatcher, shaking his head. "BP's dropping, and she'd bleeding profusely. I don't think she's going to make it."

-

Burke glanced at Derek's crashing stats, the blood transfusion not seeming to work its magic yet.

"Damn it, Shepherd. Don't do this," he said as he stitched up the last deep stab before moving on to the bullet.

"The bullet has damaged his diaphragm and hit a rib," the scrub nurse said, raising the X-ray for Doctor Burke to see.

Preston nodded, working double time to fix the damage. "Push in a dose of epi. Make sure his stats stay the same," he ordered, his mind trying to focus on the task at hand.

His hands expertly wove its way through Derek's insides, trying to repair the damage on his diaphragm. If he wasn't careful, he could lose his power of speech, or worse, die. And that was something out of the question.

"Dr. Burke!" Meredith cried, alarmed. "His stats are dropping rapidly! BP's crashing!"

"We're losing him," Karev warned, the remark sending everyone on edge.

-

The ambulance roared through the night, pumping Anthony's heart and controlling the bleeding on his pelvis.

"Ruptured pelvis, possibly his spleen, too," the man said through the phone, trying his best to bandage the wound.

"How are his stats?"

"They look normal now," he said, hearing the rhythmic beating of machine, waiting for any sign of discord.

"Have you dosed him?"

"Just local anesthetic," he remarked. "We don't know if he has any allergies. I mean, he's old."

The man on the other end of the phone nodded, taking down notes. "How long til you get here?"

"Give us 3 minutes. Be ready for him."

-

The loud flat line echoed across the place, the team scrambling to get the patient's heart beating again. They did every trick in the book, dosed everything they could, pumped in all they could think of, and charged the patient up to 400.

All of them frantically repeated CPR, started stitching up and administering more blood, refusing to give up. The head of the team dosed everything he could, eyeing the wary and frightened expression of the person right before him.

But it was no use. The patient simply wasn't responding anymore, not to the CPR or to the drugs, or to the blood transfusion. And in a moment, the cold feeling of death settled into the place, the team's breaths hitched in anticipation for the call.

"Time of death, 20:16," he declared, his voice somber in complete devastation as he stared at motionless body before him.

* * *

Sooo? What do you think? I know, not my best. My head's been buried in chemistry books these past days so yea. :) Tell me what you think and thanks so much for reading! :)

- I own nothing, by the way.


	9. Chapter 8

AN: I'm so glad you all got the impression that it was Derek. Well, not all. But most. Haha. It was what I wanted to do. But noooo, I cannot ever ever ever kill Derek unless Addison dies along with him. So watch out. Hahaha. But thank you all so much for the reviews! They're honestly very encouraging, and if I could make a living out of writing, I'd drop school and write for the rest of my life. Hahaha. Oh well.

This chapter isn't my best either. This time, I'm knee-deep in biology and pectoralis epicoracoidea muscles. :)) I just squeezed this into my time so you're not left hanging for too long.

So there. Just when you think the story's ending, this chapter happens. :) Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

-I own nothing.

* * *

The emergency message read:

_Anthony Montgomery / Male_

_74 years old_

_Dead on Arrival_

_Cause of Death: Cardiac Arrest following a car accident_

All time seemed to stop for Beatrice Forbes as she received the notice regarding Anthony's fate. It was as if her heart had stopped beating in her chest, the world spinning about her as she tried to digest the information. Her husband, well, ex-husband, was dead, and she didn't even have the chance to tell him she still loved him after all these years. It broke her heart, and put stress on the hope that was slowly tearing itself away from her considering Derek and Addison's well being.

"Mrs. Montgomery?" the voice asked, small and almost afraid.

She looked up, not even noticing the mascara running down her cheeks as she tried to stifle the flood gates she was sure was coming. "Yes?" she answered, her voice quivering.

Meredith eyed her worriedly before allowing her feet to shift from side to side, a nervous habit. "Derek is out of surgery," she declared, a wary expression crossing her features.

Bizzy stood up from her seat, slowly as if to steady herself. "Is he now? How is he?"

"He's being wheeled to the ICU. He crashed during surgery but Doctor Burke was able to stabilize him. He's not out of the woods yet, but we're all very hopeful."

"And my daughter?" she questioned, glad to see a silver lining amid the gray clouds enclosing her.

Meredith shook her head unsurely. "We don't know how she is yet. Doctor Bailey, our resident and a friend of Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd's is working on her now."

"But they've been working on her for three hours!" she protested, all her emotions on edge.

Meredith placed a comforting hand on Bizzy's shoulder, tentative at first and then more firmly, pulling her down to take a seat beside her. "I know. The waiting's the hardest part. But your daughter is in the hands of the most capable surgeons Seattle Grace has to offer. She's going to be okay."

"Dr. Grey," Bizzy said warily. "Both my children are doctors. I know it's wrong to give patients false hope." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a headache creeping in to her consciousness. She couldn't cry. Not yet. She had to stay strong for all of them if she wanted to keep the least bit of sanity.

The younger woman nodded. "I know. But I'm not giving you false hope. Everything is going to be okay."

"You don't know that," she whispered. "My husband just died tonight. Cardiac arrest," she stated somberly, fighting to keep the despair from lacing her voice. "Before everything happened tonight, he had told me the exact same things. Now look what's happened. It's not okay. We're never going to get past this because everyday is going to be a reminder of what we lost."

Meredith looked stunned. She didn't know that Anthony Montgomery, _the_ Attorney Anthony Montgomery, had lost his life tonight. And for once, she finally understood the melancholic behavior Beatrice Forbes fashioned. "I'm sorry to hear that," she whispered. "But… his death… losing him… it's not in vain. I mean, Addison is here, safe. And she's going to make it."

Bizzy shook her head adamantly. "We never should have lost either one of them. If anything happens to my daughter, his death _will_ be in vain."

-

Richard Webber stared blankly on the wall, not able to feel an ounce of relief at Derek and Addison's homecoming. His good friend had died; Derek was still in a complicated situation, and Addison was still in surgery. To top all of it off, Peter Jones, who was sent to Mercy West, was okay, with only a minor concussion and a broken leg. His minions, Ed and Carl, were also okay, without a scratch. They were thankfully being held at the station while awaiting their fate.

He couldn't comprehend how unfair life was, how a man who had sadistically held his star surgeons was able to survive while his friend, a friend who only wanted to best for his children, died. He shook his head, grief filling his entire body as he thought back to the friendship he had shared with Anthony.

"Dr. Webber?" Patricia asked timidly, her body halfway through the doorway.

"Yes?"

"Anthony Montgomery's body is ready at the morgue. In case you want to see him before he's shipped back to Hartford."

"Has Bizzy been informed?"

Patricia nodded. "She doesn't want to leave the waiting room in case they need her for Addison."

Richard sighed. "What about Derek?"

"At the ICU, sir."

"Who's with him?"

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No one. Bizzy Forbes is a most-wanted person at the moment."

He nodded. "Let her know I'll sit with Derek and she can sit with Addison. I'll meet her at the waiting room."

He spent another ten minutes staring at the wall before he gathered the strength to pick himself up, taking slow and unrushed steps. Upon reaching the waiting room, he found Bizzy Forbes hunched on the chair, her face buried in her hands, her chest heaving, and her body shaking. One didn't have to be smart to deduce that she was crying, sobbing at that.

"Bizzy," Richard said cautiously.

She looked up at the voice, wiping the tears away angrily with the back of her hand. "Richard, dear. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." She blushed at being caught at such a state, her emotions running a rollercoaster ride, her whole body drained with the effort of trying to stay calm.

Richard nodded, taking a seat beside her. "I heard about Anthony. I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

Bizzy nodded. "I am too."

"Have you been down to see… his body?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later tonight, after Addison's out of surgery. I just... want to spend more time in denial. Seeing... seeing his body would make things all the more real."

He nodded understandingly. "You can't do this alone."

"I called Archer. He's taking the first flight out." Bizzy sighed, resting her head on her hands as Richard rubbed her back in comfort. "What happened to that son of a bitch?" she asked, her voice full of bitterness and hate.

"He's at the hospital. His men are at the station."

"Is he dead yet?"

"I'm afraid he isn't."

She sighed. "It should be the other way around."

"I know. But it'll get better."

Bizzy smiled warily at Richard before straightening her back. "I hope you're right, Richard."

-

Peter Jones stared at the window of his room, the wheels turning in his head as he thought of a plan to finish things off. He heard that Anthony had died, and for that, he was deeply happy. But he didn't feel vindicated. Not yet anyway. And he deduced that he wouldn't feel fulfilled unless he had finished what he had started.

Struggling momentarily with his leg, he managed to get out of bed, being careful not to make a sound that would alarm the police officers guarding the outside of his room. The plan was to escape through the window, using the external fire exits to get out of the building and safely to the ground. It wouldn't be hard, after all, he was an expert at blocking off pain.

Slowly and carefully, he hoisted himself up the window, setting his feet on the ledge of the building. Making sure not to look down, he dragged his body to the fire escape, sensing the feel of sweet freedom that was so near to him now.

-

Bailey cleared her throat, earning the attention of both Bizzy and Richard. She stood straight, her face compassionate but tired.

"Dr. Bailey," Richard greeted, standing up. "How's Addison?"

"Being wheeled to recovery. She's a lucky girl," she said to Bizzy. "She needed a blood transfusion and some sewing up, a cast… but nothing too major. Or at least, nothing a few days in the hospital couldn't cure."

Bizzy breathed a sigh of relief, her heart pounding with unexpected joy at the news. She knew it was weird to be happy in a situation where her husband had just died, but at least his death truly wasn't in vain. Addison was okay and for the moment, that was enough.

"Can I see her?" she asked hurriedly, wanting nothing more than to be by her daughter's bedside.

Miranda looked apprehensive for a moment before sighing. "Mrs. Montgomery, there's actually something I wanted to ask you."

A flash of worry crossed Bizzy's features. "What about?"

"There actually is no easy way to say this but… were you aware that Addison was… raped?" she gulped, unsure for the first time in her life.

Bizzy closed her eyes, before nodding ever so slowly. "I was trying to forget that, actually," she whispered. "I… it breaks my heart."

Richard bowed his head in silent defeat.

"Okay." Miranda said, deciding to move on to another topic. "About her leg though,"

"Yes?"

"Her right leg is in a cast. There's a minor broken bone due to the impact of the car on the water. But it's her left thigh I'm concerned about."

The chief grimaced, remembering the little package Peter had sent to them only hours before. Being a surgeon, he should've been used to seeing flesh and blood at its most gruesome. But somehow, knowing that it was mercilessly done chilled him to the core, evoking anger he never thought he could ever play host to.

"What about it?" Bizzy asked, her voice soft.

"It doesn't look… very pretty, physically speaking," she started. "She's going to need plastic surgery on the area. I'm sure Addison would want it fixed."

Bizzy's thought for a moment before her eyes lit up with an idea, smiling brightly at her thought. "I know a plastic surgeon! He's the best in his field."

Richard turned his head to Bizzy, shaking it slightly, disapproval and uncertainty evident. "Surely you're not thinking of Mark Sloan, are you?"

"Mark is who exactly I'm thinking of. Never mind that he was the means by which Addison cheated. He's the best and my Addie deserves the best."

"Are you sure, Bizzy? Their marriage is on rocky ground. I think it would be best to consult Addison on the matter first. There are plenty of other capable plastic surgeons out there."

Bizzy sighed. "Mark is the only one I trust. I mean, Addison loves him. Derek considers him his brother... or used to. It doesn't matter that he took advantage of her or that he's a manwhore, there untrustable. He's the best plastic surgeon, and he can give Addison what she deserves: the best."

The firmness in her voice left no questions for everyone. And so it was settled. Bizzy would fly Mark out to Seattle to treat Addie and repair the damage on her thigh. They could only hope that the Shepherd's crumbling marriage could survive the blow.

After a moment of pondering silence, Richard escorted Bailey and Bizzy to the morgue to see Anthony before he was shipped to Hartford for the funeral. That act, the act of going down and leaving Addison unattended in her room, would prove to be another turning point in the drama unfolding before their very eyes.

-

"Hi, can you tell me where I might find Dr. Addison Montgomery's room, please?" Peter asked, smiling casually at the receptionist.

The receptionist smiled back shyly, blushing. It appeared that Peter was a charming man himself. "Her office, sir?"

He shook his head. "No, her hospital room. I'm an old friend of hers. I heard what happened to her and her father. I wanted to be there for Bizzy and Derek."

She nodded, checking her computer before looking up. "She's at room 321," she stated, grinning as Peter thanked her and walked to the elevator.

He was limping slightly, but he ignored it. He ignored the pain, focusing instead on the prize he was gaining for himself. Careful not to be recognized by anyone, or not to be noticed for that matter, he walked to Addison's room, peering tentatively for anyone in the room. To his relief, she had just been wheeled up and was unattended to at the moment, making things too easy for him at the moment.

Entering the room, he grinned madly, walking to claim what he thought was rightfully his. And sliding his hands underneath her body, he picked her up, grunting at the sudden weight on his hands, walked her over to the window.

And then, of course, he wouldn't be Peter if he didn't have an effective escape plan ready. He lowered her carefully on the ledge outside; thankful she was too drugged to stir her way into consciousness. Then, much like how he had escaped from Mercy West, he dragged her to the fire escape, successfully getting her and him out of the hospital without being caught.

-

_30 minutes later_

"Detective Sanders!" the officer panted, out of breath and frantic.

Sanders turned around, coming face to face with one of his men. "What's wrong?"

"Peter Jones has escaped! And Addison Shepherd is gone, too!"

* * *

Okay. There. I know... it's a lay-down chapter of sorts again. But yeah. Anthony's dead. Archer and Mark's coming over to Seattle. Derek's at the hospital getting better and Addison is left all alone with Peter. It doesn't spell a very good equation, right? But whatever. Thanks for reading and I hope you like it! Let me know what you think. :)


	10. Chapter 9

AN: I knooow, the ending was slightly unrealistic. But I just needed a way for Peter to get Addison again to get the ball rolling. Anyway, someone asked me what happened to the all the money. Unfortunately, it's still under the water, in an airtight briefcase that's waterproof and stainless steel (because a Forbes-Montgomery could afford it. teehee.) Maybe I'll bring it up in the next chapters.

Thanks all so much for the reviews! They all mean a lot considering how I'm losing my mind with my academics. :| Haha.

There. thanks so much for reading and hope you like it! (I doubt anyone reads ANs at the top of the story. If you do though, HELLO!)

- I own nothing.

* * *

Derek squinted at the bright lights surrounding him, disoriented at the lack of remembrance. He fought against the urge to go back to sleep, blinking his eyes rapidly and shaking off the slumber.

He groaned, frustrated, as his sight adjusted to his surroundings, only then realizing that he was at the hospital, a patient himself. His eyes shifted from side to side, realizing he wasn't alone, and that Meredith and the chief were beside him.

"Derek," Meredith exhaled, a smile dancing on her features. "You're awake."

He stared past her, meeting Richard's uncertain gaze. "Chief," he said, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"

Richard narrowed his eyes and sighed, hoping he wouldn't be the one to have that conversation with him. He stepped forward, past Meredith, and took a seat by his bed. "You remember nothing?"

Derek closed his eyes in thought before realization dawned on him. He had to take a deep, calming breath before trusting himself to speak unwaveringly. "Where's Addison? How is she?" he asked hurriedly, his voice pained with raw emotion. "What happened?" he demanded.

The chief sighed again. It seemed that nowadays, all he did was sigh in grief, his hope diminishing by the hour. "Peter Jones has taken her."

"And Tony?" he asked, referring to his father in law. He briefly remembered taking a bullet for him and his wife.

He shook his head. "He didn't make it. Cardiac arrest," he explained. "I'm sorry."

The neurosurgeon gulped, shaking his head in defeat. "Have you found Addison?"

"Derek… we got her to the hospital. We got her through the surgery. Hell, we even got her to her recovery room. But Peter Jones is a clever man, and he was able to take her without anyone noticing." He couldn't quite believe it himself, how something that big had escaped anyone's notice. Someone should've paid more attention, or at the very least noticed that something was out of the ordinary. But alas, no one knew what happened, and he was left with the bitter realization that his hospital was far less competent than he had made it to be.

Derek furrowed his brow in absolute confusion. "But ho—"

"We don't know," he stated, holding his hand up. "Sanders believes he took her back to wherever it is that he brought the two of you. You're going to have to help us locate it."

"But Addison is… she's in danger, goddamnit!" he yelled, feeling the anger rising as he struggled against the multiple bandages covering his body. "Why have you not found her? Why was she unsupervised in the first place? Someone tell me what the hell is going on!"

Richard laid a firm and steady hand on his shoulder. "You're going to have to take it easy, Shep. In case you haven't noticed, you're at the ICU. You'll need more rest and more medical care. So if I were you, I would get better so I could start being useful. We're all worried about Addie, and you can't help until you're perfectly healthy enough to."

"She's my wife!" he said indignantly. "I can help while I'm here."

The chief sighed. "I don't doubt that. But Addison would want you to think about yourself first before putting yourself in danger. Please, for her sake and everyone else's, get better. Bizzy is worrying her head off about you and Addie. She's controlling her grief over Anthony. And all the help she's getting is going to be from Archer and me. So you're going to have to be a good patient and suck it up until you're better."

Derek's eyes started to water, the realization that Addison was not out of danger while he was getting better hitting him full force. He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine living his life without Addison. Fear filled his body at the very thought of Addison being left alone with the sadistic creep whose head was too high up his ass to actually believe Addison was payback. "I just want her back," he admitted quietly, his head shaking in despair.

The older man closed his eyes for a moment, not prepared for the way Derek's emotions would hit him. Derek's sudden passion for his wife surprised him and Meredith, and he tried to control his own floodgates at the thought of Derek's care being too late. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know you want her back. We all do. But hang in there. We won't lose her."

-

Addison stirred in her sleep, her hands tied behind her alarming her to consciousness, and she jolted awake. Her eyes moved from up and down, right and left, trying to make sense of what she was aware of. The hospital gown, the cast, her hands tied behind her, the dark room she hoped was just dream… it was all so vivid. She couldn't comprehend how the equation didn't seem to fit at all.

Behind her, Peter cleared his throat, a solemn look on his face. He stood up, feeling Addison's fearful gaze following him. He sat directly in front of Addison, handing her a water bottle and a sandwhich. It was thoughtful gesture, in retrospect, considering how he was supposed to play the cliche kidnapper and Addison was her hostage.

"You're confused," he stated, his voice emotionless.

Addison nodded, her heart pounding. "I am," she admitted, too wary to consider the danger of replying.

"I am, too. I thought… I thought I'd feel vindicated. But I don't."

"Excuse me?"

Peter bowed his head. "Your father is dead. He died following the car accident. I'm sorry."

For the first time, Addison detected the sincerity and honesty in his voice. She didn't know why, but she believed him, she believed he was sorry indeed. But that didn't stop her eyes from automatically filling with tears, or heart contorting in fury and hate. She was shocked to say the least, and hurt and angry and downright disbelieving. "No…" she whispered in resolute denial. "You're lying. He's not… he's not dead! He's—"

"Damn it!" he snapped suddenly. "He's dead! Because of a fucking cardiac arrest! And do you know what frustrates me to no end? It's that I don't feel fulfilled! The goal was to kill him, to make him pay! And now that he's dead, I can't even begin to comprehend why I'm still the empty shell of the man I used to be."

Addison cowered in fear, tears falling freely from her eyes. She didn't bother wiping them, because she knew they would continue to fall until she found closure. She shook her head, her heart not wanting to believe it. "No…"

He sighed. "I'm not as heartless as you think I am," he whispered after a moment's pause, staring at the wall. "I'm doing this for my family."

"Killing me and my father would not bring you justice," Addison said harshly, her voice laced with loathing. Her father was dead, and she felt guilty. A million if only's ran through her conscious mind, gripping her and eating her slowly as she tried to accept it. But she couldn't, not when she knew she could have done something to stop it.

"I know. But as a man, I have to finish what I started." He stood, pacing. "Your Derek is okay, by the way. He's at Seattle Grace, safe. I promise I'm not after him anymore." He meant it, of course. He didn't care about Derek anymore. All he cared about was finding the faith he once held on to again, so that he could move forward with his life.

Addison nodded, comforted, but only minutely. Her mind was still otherwise preoccupied by her father's fate. "You killed my father."

Peter nodded. "I have yet to decide if I'm sorry about that or not."

-

"Derek…" Meredith said unsurely, taking a seat beside him after Richard had left. She reached to take his hand but he flinched away, his head still trying to make sense of what was happening. "I'm sorry about Addison's dad."

Derek nodded. "I am too."

"And about Addison."

A pained expression crossed his features. "She's… everything. If I lose her now… I'd be too lost to find my way."

Meredith sucked in a breath, shaking her head at Derek's obvious love for his wife. "I'll be here to help you find your way."

"But only Addison knows me. Only she can help me find my way." He turned his head and met Meredith's gaze. "I'm sorry, Meredith. I… this whole ordeal made me realize a lot of things; the top of which being that Addison's the love of my life, and that stringing along two women is cowardly of me."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, confusion and the sudden realization of Dereks' feelings dawning on her. She didn't want to believe, and tried to deny it until he heard Derek say it directly.

"What I'm saying is… I'm done chasing you, Meredith. You deserve someone who'll shower you with the affection you deserve, not the empty hope I've been giving you these past months. And certainly not the lying bastard that I am now. And Addison… she deserves the best from me. I'm her husband, and I want her to have the best. You're… you're free. I'm giving you the space to move on, like you wanted me to since you found out about Addison. I just… can't be a man fully committed to you because I'll always be tied to Addison's memory." He sighed, looking at Meredith apologetically. "I'm sorry."

She struggled to keep the tears at bay. What hurt the most was that she recognized the wisdom behind Derek's words, and that she indeed needed to let go so that she could move forward with someone she truly deserved. Meredith nodded, pursing her lips in at attempt to keep her emotions in. "You really love her, don't you?"

He nodded fervently without hesitation. "With my whole life."

"You were willing to die for her," she said, referring to the bullet he took for her.

"I'd rather die than live without her."

Meredith nodded understandingly. "Make it worth it, okay? Make all of this worth the pain and the suffering. Make sure you spend the rest of your life proving your love to her, so I'm not left to wonder what if." She smiled at him through the tears starting to fall. "I know for a fact you'll be the Derek she fell in love with, only this time, you guys are going to make it to forever."

-

"So? Any leads?"

Sanders shook his head; not believing the failure this mission was turning out to be. "Once Dr. Shepherd's strong enough to talk, we can track down the place and find them."

Bizzy shook her head, her body poised amid the emotions running wild. She was dressed in black from head to toe, not hiding her grieving from the world. She had just lost her husband, and the possibility of finding her daughter was getting slimmer by the hour. "That's not enough. You can't just rely on Derek. What if he doesn't remember? You're going to need to find a Plan B."

The detective sighed. "We're doing our best."

"I've heard that before," she snapped, her eyes ablaze with anger. "You said that before and now my husband is dead, in a crate and being shipped off to Hartford for a funeral my daughter may not even be able to attend."

"Mrs. Montgomery, with all due respect, we are human, too. We make mistakes, and sometimes, these mistakes are at the price of someone's life. But don't think that we're taking the situation lightly. It is our obligation to ensure the safety of this country's citizens, and so the search for your daughter is one we're not taking with but a mere shrug. You're just going to have to trust us to find her and get her to safety. Otherwise, you can go find her yourself."

"Don't talk to my mother like that," Archer said from the doorway, his voice firm. He stared down at the detective. "You're talking about my sister. I don't expect you to understand because clearly, you cannot empathize. But some compassion and kindness amid all this confusion would be appreciated," he snapped. He walked over to his mother, embracing her tightly and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Detective, this is my son Dr. Archer Forbes Montgomery. He'll be assisting me with everything."

Detective Sanders nodded, his face red with contained emotions.

Archer nodded back. "Where's Derek?"

"In his room. Meredith Grey is with him."

"And Agatha Jones?"

"At the station," the detective asserted. "She's still trying to process, but she's willing to help."

Bizzy sighed. "I'm afraid not even Agatha can help us now. He's far too wild to contain any longer."

-

Addison stared blankly at the ceiling as she lay on the hard floor that night, her eyes streaming with tears as she thought back to the countless ways she could have saved her father. But it brought her no comfort, instead leaving her with a big gaping hole in her heart as she tried to comprehend how she would continue fighting this losing battle.

Peter Jones had been _human_ today, offering her food and not making any moves to hurt her. Yet. She knew she couldn't hold on to the hope Peter was dangling in front of her for fear of being let down.

She was, however, relieved to know that Derek was okay. She could only hope that he would not find comfort in the arms of someone else, praying hard that he meant what he said about being her husband again. It was a weird feeling though, to know that even though she cared for him deeply, and him for her, the chances of their marriage not falling apart were slim. She knew she had to end it, like she had intended to their first night in the god-forsaken place.

But tonight, all she could do was pray that there was something brighter awaiting her, for if not, she would be left to believe that the closure she would find from her father's death would be her own death.

* * *

Okay. This sort of gets the romantic plot going. I decided to get the action plot going in the next chapter because I wanted something romantic... in a way. There. Tell me what you think. I would love to hear from you.

And once again, if you're reading this, HELLO! (Because I highly doubt ANs are read much. :)) )


	11. Chapter 10

AN: The reviews were awesome guys! Thanks so much! :) I just got home from watching the Hangover. I think I died laughing. Haha. But that has nothing to do with anything. :)) I'm bored out of my wits.

So yea. Here's the next chapter. The sadist is back, by the way. Well, not in full bloom though. Not yet. :D There. Happy reading and thank you!:)

- I still own nothing.

* * *

"You miss your father," he stated, eyeing her as he sat adjacent to her once again.

Addison nodded, too wary to be having this conversation with him. If he wanted to kill her, she hoped he would do it quickly and painlessly. For every time he prolonged it, it was getting harder and harder to come into terms with the idea of death.

"I know how you feel."

She shook her head. "No you don't. If you did, you'd be able to sympathize with me."

"Contrary to what you think, Addie-bee—"

"Don't call me that," she whispered harshly. "Not after what you did. You don't get to call me Addie-bee. I don't care if it angers you or makes you want to kill me now. Just… please. Don't."

Peter nodded understandingly. He himself didn't know what came over him. He didn't know why he was being the least bit kind to the redhead. He supposed that the effort of trying to be a sadistic freak was wearing him out, and he missed being the sensitive guy he was before Anthony Montgomery turned his life upside down. "As I was saying, contrary to what you think, I do know how it feels like."

She raised a brow disbelievingly at him. "How so?"

He bowed his head. "I missed my family more than life itself when I was behind bars. I would've given up everything to spend a day with them again. I mean, I knew I would see them again after 25 long years, but I was dead to them. I still am."

"But your wife…"

"Did you see the look on her face that night? She… she thinks I'm a monster. And I suppose she's right about that. I've changed so much over the past years that I find no semblance between the man I was to the man I am."

"Then change back," Addison said simply.

"It's not that easy. I have to feel vindicated before I can be the same man."

"And this vindication will come from…?"

Peter looked pained for a moment and then sighed, standing up. "I think you know the answer to that. I promise you, though, that it'll be quick and painless."

With that, he walked to the door and exited, bolting it closed as he had a hundred times before.

-

Detective Sanders sat in Derek's room, jotting down notes as he asked him questions about Peter. Bizzy, Archer and the chief were also present, trying to encourage Derek.

"And what do you remember about the shack?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "For the last time, it's not a shack. I don't know what it is, just that it looked like we were held in a basement of some sort. Both Addie and I were almost out cold when in transport."

"And how long was travel?"

"From where?"

The detective shrugged. "From the shack to the highway or the hospital to the shack. Whichever you remember."

"An hour and half to the highway give or take."

Sanders nodded, taking down notes. "And in your opinion, did it feel like you were going north or south?"

"We took the west highway from Seattle Grace. That's all I can remember. I can't tell you which exits and exchanges we took."

"And on a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, what's the probability of us finding Addison with your help?"

Derek closed his eyes, everyone in the room awaiting his answer. He felt as if the air had stopped circulating, like all of them were holding their breaths for him. He wanted desperately to say 10, because that would make him feel more confident than he really way. But if he really wanted to find her, he had to be honest. He had to accept that he could be virtually no help unless he could find something in his head to help him remember.

"Well?" Bizzy asked suddenly, her voice apprehensive.

He looked apologetically at Bizzy and Archer's expectant eyes. "Two," he said simply.

For a moment, there was nothing but hopeless silence as everyone tried to gather their thoughts. It would be more difficult than they had expected, but it was a two nonetheless, not a flat out zero.

And then, the tensed silence was interrupted by a timid knocking on the door, followed by Agatha cautiously walking in, all heads turned to her.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," she said unsurely. "I was just looking for everybody."

Bizzy nodded, gesturing for her to take a seat. "No worries, darling."

"I… uh… actually wanted to talk to you all about something."

Archer raised his brow expectantly. He still wasn't sure whether they should trust the woman, but it was one of the only hopes his mother was holding on to. So for her sake, he was trying to give Agatha the benefit of the doubt. "And what might that be?"

"The shack… well, not really a shack. But I'll call it the shack for lack of better word," she rambled before stopping herself. "My.. my point is… I think I know where it is."

Everyone's eyes widened as Sanders spoke in disbelief. "Excuse me? You've been with us the whole time and you haven't said a word about—"

"Detective," Bizzy warned, knowing that his temper would not get them anywhere. "Let her continue," giving him the hardcore Forbes glare that Addison had inherited. If it weren't for the situation they were in, Derek would've chuckled at the display of unadulterated emotion.

"As I was saying," Agatha continued. "I think I know where it is. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure. But it makes sense, I think. Peter grew up here in Seattle. He used to be a real estate agent, but he found passion in farming and the slow life so he moved to Hartford. He used to look at land out here, and he owns a quaint house about 100 miles northwest of Seattle. I don't know where it is exactly. It's under his father's name."

"What does that mean?"

"It means… he must have taken her to the place. I completely forgot about the land out here, or any land for that matter, since he was brought to jail." Her face bore the most apologetic and yet childlike of expressions, as if she had discovered the secret behind the world's greatest mystery.

"Could you give us more information about the place?" the detective asked, the wheels turning in his head as Agatha spoke.

She shrugged. "Only that it belongs to Abraham Jones, his father. I've never been to the place though. He meant to take me before, but it never happened."

"Agatha…" Bizzy started, pity filling her at seeing the woman so torn. She knew it hurt Agatha to be torn between her duty to her husband and her duty to the citizenry.

"You have to act fast though," she continued. "I know Peter. For all you know, he could be growing a heart, though I highly doubt that, but he wouldn't keep his eyes off the prize. It's always going to be about the prize for him."

-

Addison awoke to the sensation of being tied up once again, on a chair with her eyes blindfolded. She struggled, knowing she never could have trusted Peter. Her body strained against Peter's tight grasp on her wrist as fear started to grip her. The blindfold was something new, and it scared her. It was almost as if the unknown future had just thrown a curveball at her and she didn't know what to expect anymore.

"I read something a few years back in a medical journal," she heard him say, his voice back to the cynical and sadistic one he held not too long ago. "About drug overdoses."

Her eyes shot open underneath the blindfold, her body sweating and shaking all of a sudden. "What?"

"You heard me. It was an article about this new form of abortion slash suicide." He walked about the room, shuffling and making noises Addison could only imagine.

She heard him open packets and packets of things she could not recognize by sound, and then heard him tinkling around a glass as he stirred whatever concoction he was coming up with. She was familiar with the article he was talking about.

"Of course you know what article I'm referring to, of course." Addison had written that article a couple of years back, and had it published because of the overwhelming statistics about peri-natal mothers trying to abort their babies or kill themselves. She had had a handful of patients being brought to the hospital on account of serious drug intakes, and it pained her to see women so readily give up their babies and their lives.

"How could I not?" she said harshly, her voice raised. "You're using my words against me."

He laughed sardonically. "Hardly, Addie-bee. For you see, I twisted the article a bit so it wouldn't just apply to pregnant women." Peter paused, shaking his head. "I told you it would be quick and painless."

"Drug overdoses aren't quick and painless," Addison protested harshly, breathing deeply as she tried to control her emotions. Deep inside, she was panicking. She knew she should have been ready for anything, but knowing how it was going to turn out made things almost too much to handle.

"I know that, too. So, after you drink whatever it is I'm preparing for you, I'm untying you. And you get the choice of waiting for the drugs to take effect, or use the gun I'm going to leave for you so it's quick and painless. It's really your choice. And then, right after I untie you, I'm leaving. Adios. The house," he said, referring the shack, "is yours."

Addison gulped, her mind thinking of the million possibilities a drug overdose could kill her. Cardiac arrest, suffocation, lack of oxygenation due to excessive toxins in her blood. She could go on forever, listing off things in her head that could happen. But she had to stay steadfast. She could resign herself to her fate, or fight. Because really, the gun was fate and running away to find a thread of hope would be fight.

Peter watched as Addison's face contorted in a myriad of emotions, the gamut expressing themselves perfectly on her pretty face. He sighed, pulling a seat and settling himself by the table. "Do you want to know what I put into this?"

She thought about it for a moment, deciding that Peter would tell her anyway whether or not she said yes. How she wished Derek were with her now. He would know the right things to say to comfort her. Slowly, she nodded, fisting her hands as she braced herself.

"Sleeping pills, Panadol, Tylenol… Paracetamol… and a bunch of other unpronounceable crap. I put in Lipitor and Amoxicillin, Prozac… really, just over the counter pain medications that I had lying around the house. I don't know how long they've been in this house, though. I think the tylenol's been here at least 5 years."

"This is going to be slow and painful," Addison whispered.

"It is. But… if it makes you happy, I pounded these things up to a fine powder and mixed it with the water well. It'll taste horrible," he said, grinning sadistically. "But it's the most I can do."

She pursed her lips sarcastically. "Gee… thanks for you concern, asshole. I thought you grew a heart after you fucking killed my dad. I was wrong. You're still as crappy and worthless as you were before. I hope you rot in hell."

"You better watch your tongue, Addie-bee," he warned. "But if I rot in hell, darling, I'll be seeing your father and you there, too."

He walked over, taking the blindfold off and giving Addison her first view of the tall glass that contained whatever it was that was going into her system.

"You know… just a little trivia. I thought about peeling your skin for this final, triumphant and yet anti-climactic moment where I get to kill you. I thought about doing all those other sadistic things I know your mind must have come up with. But you're not worth the energy it would take for me to skin you. But who knows, I might change my mind in a hour or so."

He grinned wickedly and held the glass up, the liquid inside it a most gruesome color; Addison started to gag at the mere sight of it. He turned his head, staring at the glass. "I mixed in some orange juice in case you wanted some flavor. And some spoiled milk too. I didn't know what you were up for."

Addison grimaced at the sight of its contents, her whole body repulsed by it. She closed her eyes, trying to transport herself to a different time and place, trying to think of more pleasant things to occupy her mind. She really didn't want to be thinking about how she would survive, so she brought to mind her father's image so that at least, there would be purpose for all this suffering.

"You ready?" he asked, roughly gripping her chin and opening her mouth without waiting for an answer. He lowered the glass to her lips, pouring a hefty amount of it into her mouth and forcing her to swallow it.

And as expected, her gag reflexes kicked in, and she spit out the disgusting liquid, spraying it on Peter and on herself, her chin dripping.

Peter slapped her hard on the cheek, once again bringing the glass to her lips and forcing it down, this time ensuring that she swallowed it. "I'm offended you don't like what I'm offering," he said coldly. "Swallow it, bitch. Or else you're in for another glass."

He forced the drink unto her, ignoring the gagging sounds and the tears that were streaming down her face as she swallowed the bile and the concoction with all the strength she could muster. She wasn't fully recovered from her previously acquired wounds, her thigh throbbing and her leg stiffening as tried to ignore the constant dripping from her chin and the wetness of her clothes as it spilled on to her clothes.

"Please stop," she pleaded, feeling bloated and pained.

The man just shook his head adamantly. "You're more than halfway through. Why stop now?" he said, forcing more of it on to her. "The sooner you finish this, the sooner you get to be with your precious father."

And then with all the force she could come up with, she took the final gulp and breathed in and out, trying to keep the liquid in for fear of more if she vomited.

"Good girl, Addie-bee. Your daddy would be so proud."

Immediately, she started feeling dizzy, barely recognizing the feeling of her arms and feet being unbounded and freed. She was drugged up, in every sense of the word, that she barely registered the fact that Peter laid a small pistol on the table and kissed her sloppily on the forehead, muttering incoherent words as he left the room, bolting the door once again.

At that rate, Addison only had 2 or 3 hours left, 4 at most if she didn't kill herself with the pistol. The world started spinning around her, and as everything went to black from a colorful haze of glitter and darkness, she wondered if anyone would find her or if she would breathe her last breath all alone.

-

"Any luck on finding the land?"

The detective nodded, wiping his brow after an hour and a half of searching through land titles in the greater area of Northwest Seattle.

"Apparently, Abraham Jones has 16 land titles on file. He owns a lot."

Archer smiled, feeling his hope rising. "Then let's get a move on it. If we split up, we could find the shack in no time."

"Dr. Montgomery, traveling to northwest Seattle at this hour can take up to 3 hours with traffic."

"Which is why we should get a move on it," he stated obviously.

Sanders sighed. "We'll have to assemble a team, and it can take about an hour to two to get one and arrange a plan. So yes, we'll start moving, but not until we can furnish an arrangement."

Archer nodded, turning on his heel to inform Derek and Bizzy, his heart racing and bursting with hope. He could only pray, however, that they would be just in time to save his sister.

In retrospect, people would wonder, if Sanders had acted quicker and saved time that day, would things have had fewer consequences for all of them?

* * *

There. Now I'm going back to studying even if it's a weekend. :) Thanks for reading!! :)


	12. Chapter 11

AN: Thanks for the reviews, guys! Here's the next chapter. :) It's pretty short, and it's not my best. But I hope you like it just the same. :) Thanks for reading.

- I own absolutely nothing.

* * *

Addison scrambled from where she was laying, trying to fight off the slumber that was beckoning to her, calling her with such ferocity in its tone that it took Herculean effort for her to be released from its bonds. She used her elbows to propel herself forward, still trying to decide if she would kill herself or wait. In an attempt to stay awake, she tried to recite the symptoms of all the diseases she could come up with, drug overdoses part of it.

_Paralysis._

_Hallucinations._

_Deliria._

_Brain damage._

_Comatose._

_Seizures._

_Hypertension._

_Memory loss._

_Death._

She tried to stay focused, tried to stay alert for as long as she could, but it was getting harder and harder. Her blurred vision made things so cloudy to her sight that she couldn't make out anything in the room.

"Addison."

She turned around, hearing someone call her name.

"Who's there?" she slurred, struggling to stand up whilst keeping her balance.

"Addison," the voice said again, louder this time.

She shook her head, unwilling to believe whatever it was she was hearing. But in reality, it was the only comfort she could find. She could have just been imagining it, which was the most probably, but she couldn't find herself turning away from it. An overwhelming feeling of warmth rushed through her body, and she laughed uncontrollably. "Derek?" she said through her laughing. "Is that you?"

Addison could make out a figure walking towards her, his curly hair blowing slightly in the absent wind. She smiled, reaching her hand out for something only she could see. "Hi, Derek…"

The man smiled, taking her hand, at least in her eyes, and squeezed it. "Hey Addie."

"I knew you'd come find me," she stuttered, her speech slightly impeded. "I knew you'd always come back for me."

"Addie…" Imaginary Derek started walking to her, smiling his McDreamy smile, his eyes sparkling.

She shook her head, more roughly this time, and squinted, lucid for but a moment. She knew she was imagining it, and that she had to fight it off. She walked about the room, clinging on to the tables and chairs she couldn't make out, creating such loud, banging noises as she did so.

"Addie-bee," she heard someone else say, tears filling her eyes as she recognized the voice.

"Daddy," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. "This isn't real," she muttered. "You aren't real."

The two men walked towards her, their eyes sympathetic and remorseful. Anthony's image stopped right in front of her, laying an imaginary hand on her back as she arched to keep her balance. "Addie-bee," he repeated.

"Stop!" she yelled suddenly, violently thrashing about the small room, overturning tables and chairs as she struggled to find the least bit of sanity. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" she screamed, continuing her banging. Sobs escaped her throat; wracking her body as she saw the two men cower in fear.

"This isn't happening," she said, over and over again. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening. I'm dreaming. I'm back home, in New York, asleep on my cozy bed. This isn't happening," she repeated, falling to the ground and holding her head in her hands, rocking herself back and forth.

"Addie, you can let go now," Anthony's image said, staring down at her from his corner. "You don't have to do this."

At the corner of her eye, she could see Derek's vision raising his hand and pointing directly to the pistol by her feet. It had fallen due to her wild thrashing, and had landed but a few inches from where she had settled herself.

Tears streaming down her face, and desperation filling her body, she reached for the gun, clutching it tightly with shaking fingers.

"You'll be free," she heard Derek whisper.

_Free_.

Oh, how she wanted sweet freedom at that very moment.

-

Derek sighed, looking out the window, his heart pounding. He had been moved to the regular recovery room the day before. His wounds were healing nicely, although he was still sore. The panic in his heart had not subsided a bit. It was still there, constantly pounding on the sanity he was holding on to, trying to break whatever calm walls he had built and threatening to overcome him. He wanted Addison to be okay so badly, wanted the police to find her and take her to his awaiting arms.

He knew, however, that the chances of him and Addison staying married after all of this was slim. Addison had made it clear to him that whether or not they survived, she was divorcing him because she had had enough of his indifference. In truth, he couldn't blame her. He couldn't lay blame on whatever decisions she had made. He really wasn't the ideal husband before all of this happened. But he meant what she said to Meredith, about Addison being the love of his life. He knew in his heart that he would never have the strength to let her go, to unlove her, because no matter how horribly he treated her, and no matter how many times he told himself he was moving on, everything would boil down to the fact that without her, he himself would cease to exist.

"Derek, honey," Bizzy said, entering his room without knocking. "I thought you might like to know, they have a lead on Addison's whereabouts."

Derek turned his head, looking at Bizzy. He really looked at her this time, noticing the fine lines and the wrinkles subtly hidden by impeccable make-up on her features. She seemed older to him, the weight of Anthony's death quite obvious on her features. "Have they found her?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the seat by the bed.

She nodded, accepting the silent offer. "Archer's driving out with the detective and some other people to the area. I really hope they'll find her this time," she said, her voice weary and hopeful, but worried just the same.

"Me too," he said quietly. "God… if they don't find her… I think I may go crazy."

"That makes two of us," she admitted. "But I have faith in Archer. He's so intent on finding her that I think he's easily lost 10 years of his life just by pacing the floor."

"How are _you_ holding up?"

Bizzy looked up, meeting Derek's gaze. "How am _I_ holding up?" she asked incredulously, and then sighed. "As well as I could imagine, I suppose," shaking her head. "I mean, my ex-husband just died. Never mind that we divorced years ago, or that I haven't had any contact with him these past months. He was my one great love, and now he's out cold and in some municipal morgue in Hartford awaiting a funeral. And then, to top all of that off, my daughter's still missing, and could most probably be dead right now. I… I don't know how I'm doing. I just… I want all of this to end. I want be daughter back," she said, a couple of tears making its way down her cheeks. "I miss her."

"I miss her too," he said, the pain in his voice evident. "I miss her."

She reached her hand out, taking Derek's hand in hers. "We'll find her. We shouldn't give up hope."

He nodded, a fierce and determined look suddenly obvious on his expression. "Biz—Mom… I… I have something to ask."

"What is it?"

"I want to be there. I want to… be with Archer… when they round the place. I want to be there."

Bizzy shook her head. "Dear, you know that's impossible. You're not well enough."

"Please. I'm begging you. I'm not in a life and death situation anymore. I'm weak, yes. I don't feel my own ass, yes. But I want to be there for her. Surely you must understand how I feel. She's my wife, for Christ's sake. I want to be there for her," he repeated.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did so. "Derek… we've already lost Anthony. And Addie still isn't safe. We couldn't risk losing you too."

"You wouldn't lose me. I'm going to be fine. In fact," he insisted, "I think I'll be better out there than here, cooped up and left to wonder what's happening. Please, Mom. For my own peace of mind."

Bizzy stared at him for a long moment, measuring Derek's expression with her own and trying to decipher if it were for the best. Finally, she sighed, relenting. "I'll talk to Richard," she whispered, standing up and kissing Derek on the forehead before walking out the door to talk to Richard.

As soon as Bizzy was out the door, Mark Sloan entered the room unsurely, seeing Derek for the first time since he got to Seattle. Bizzy had called him to come for Addison's surgery, but didn't anticipate what had happened after. He was standing outside throughout Derek's conversation with Bizzy, and he couldn't help but wonder if the change in Derek's attitude would last, or if it were only temporary because Addison was in danger. Mark had arrived that morning, still weary from the flight. But he was determined to be strong for everyone, especially for Addison. It had come to a point when he himself couldn't deny the feelings he felt for her, the love he knew existed in his heart. He loved Addison, and to lose her would kill him.

"Mark," Derek said curtly, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Bizzy called me. I came for Addie."

"Why would she call you? And what the hell do you want from my wife?"

Mark sighed. "Look, I didn't come here to fight. God knows you didn't do that in New York, so I have no intention of seeing you do that now. I came here to support you."

Derek scoffed, tearing his gaze away from the man he once considered his brother. "Support me? After you defrocked my wife on my marital bed?" he asked disbelievingly. "Go back to New York, Mark. I don't need you here."

Mark walked deeper into the room, shaking his head. "I'm not going anywhere. I know you feel betrayed, and I know you don't want to see me—"

"You got that right."

He ignored the comment and continued. "But I'm still your best friend. I care for Addie. I might even go so far as to say I'm in love with her."

Derek shot daggers at him, his ablaze with anger. "Did you come here to rub your affair in my face, Mark? I know about the two months she stayed with you, and about the baby she aborted. I don't need you here making things worse."

"Derek, you ignored your wife. You practically drove her to my arms. Every missed dinner, birthday and anniversary was a snapped thread in whatever marriage you've woven together. And she was lonely. I made her feel something other than loneliness."

"Mark," Derek warned.

"I'm not done. Not with Addie. I love her. And when she gets back here, and after I've treated her, I'm taking her back to New York with me. I'm saying this not to make you feel bad, but for you to find comfort in the fact that I truly love her, and that I'm going to do everything in my power to make her happy so she won't end up they way she did. I care for her, Derek, too deeply to ignore."

"Get out," Derek seethed, breathing in and out to calm himself. "Get out of here and eat your goddamn fucking words! My marriage is none of your business so stay out of it. Addie and I are going to work this out, you inconsiderate son of a bitch. I love her. And I may have failed to see her, to show her my love, but it doesn't mean I feel any less about her. So get out!" he yelled, pointing furiously at the door and glaring at Mark.

Mark walked over to the door, his hand settling on the knob, sighing and yet undefeated just the same. "I don't think it was a mistake," he whispered, not bothering to turn around and face Derek. "I don't regret what happened. I'm sorry, Derek, for hurting you. But I love her, and that doesn't just go away because she's married to you."

With that, he opened the door and exited, his footsteps echoing across the hall.

-

Peter walked placidly to the basement, opening it to check on Addison. She was splayed on the floor, her hands still shakily holding the gun, staring at it.

"Hey," he called out, noticing the sweat on her brow. He smiled in satisfaction.

She didn't look up, only continued muttering incoherent words as she fiddled with the pistol.

He walked over and kneeled in front of her, carefully putting a hand on her cheek.

She snapped out of her trance and retracted roughly, the gun falling to the floor in her haste. She struggled to stand up, losing her balance once or twice as she cowered by the dark corner, hugging her knees and continuing her rambling.

"Addison," he warned, picking up the gun. "I'm afraid that's no way to treat a person," he said. "You shouldn't be hiding and running away like that. It offends people."

Addison's eyes met his, hers full of pain as she struggled to stay awake. "Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop," she repeated over and over again. The room was spinning around her, the colors smudged in her sight and the sounds heightened.

He raised a brow at her. "Make what stop, Addie-bee?"

"Derek!" she yelled, her hands frantically pointing to an invisible man behind Peter. Only she could see Derek and Anthony, standing idly behind Peter Jones. "Derek! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop! Please! Derek!"

Her begging intensified as her screams did, her arms flailing as she moved to stand up, to rush to her imagination's open arms. But as soon as she ran two or three steps from her spot, Peter had aborted her action and gripped her tightly by the waist, sending her in another fit of hysteria.

"Daddy!" she yelled. "Dad help me!" she begged, her eyes filling with tears as Peter tightened his grip on her. "Make him stop, please," she cried, her voice much like a child's. "Please…"

"You know," Peter said, "you can make it stop. I gave you the pistol."

Addison struggled against his strength, regardless of the fact that the world was spinning about her. "Dad!" she continued, the vision of her father and husband slowly disappearing as the darkness threatened to consume her once again.

Peter struggled with her weight before he took advantage of the upper hand and slammed her to the ground, her head hitting and bouncing off the concrete in a loud crack.

She whimpered, her arms madly flailing as she tried to get a hold of herself.

He took the gun and shoved it to her hands, grasping her arms to guide it near her head, pointing the pistol's end to her forehead. "One pull, Addison, and this could be all over."

She shook her head, her eyes widening at the sight of the gun so close to her head. She steadied her hand and fought against Peters hold, successfully avoiding the gun's point. Taking up as much strength as she could muster, she pointed the gun directly at Peter, their arms wrestling against each other.

"You killed my father!" she yelled in a moment of lucidity. "I want you to die!"

Peter grabbed her hands, but she was strong enough to put up a struggle between the two of them, both bodies desperate to take over control.

"I won't die, bitch! You will!"

Addison bent her knee and kicked him square in the middle of his legs, using the momentary distraction to elbow his head, the gun still in her hand.

They were both standing up now, struggling to take control of the pistol. Their hands were over their heads, both arms engaged in a battle of strength. They struggled, sweating and cursing and moving frantically from one spot to another in an attempt to get the upper hand.

And then, a sickening crack echoed across the small room, the gun falling steadily to the ground.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :) The story's coming to a close. The action plot, at least. IDK about the romantic plot ( if I should go on with it, that it.) Let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 12

AN: Hi everyone. Sorry for the cliffy! :)) It's my thing, apparently. I mean, it's not that I do it intentionally, or I plan them. But they just... happen while I type away. Anyway, this chapter went through a lot of revisions, and took me longer than usual to write because I guess I lost inspiration. So I had to immerse myself in Addek goodness before I could give this chap justice. Though I'm still not happy with it.

Thanks so much for the reviews, by the way. They totally rocked my socks and pushed me to write even when some psycho stalker kept on bugging me the whole week. Hahaha.

- I own nothing.

* * *

Two hours from the time Bizzy had conversed with him, Derek found himself wrapped tightly in blankets as he rode the van with Archer in front, the detective driving, and Bizzy and Agatha seated beside him. He tried not to wince at the bumpy terrain they were trekking, knowing full well that it was all worth it once he knew for sure that Addison was safe.

"Turn right here," Archer instructed, gesturing to the dirt road before an open expanse of green field.

The detective nodded and maneuvered the car, trusting Archer's map-reading skills as he rounded the corner. "There's a clearing up front," he said, staring straight ahead at the flat ground ahead of them.

Agatha strained her neck to look at the place, her eyes widening in recognition. "I've seen this place in a picture before," she stated. "There should be a small cottage somewhere in the clearing."

Behind them, a parade of police cars and an ambulance followed, all of them fully equipped to face the man who had caused so much chaos at the station. The detective had rounded up the best cops he could trust for this mission. He had to make sure nothing else screwed up after what had happened to Anthony.

And true to Agatha's word, there indeed was a quaint cottage in the clearing, something plucked out of a fairytale. It didn't look dangerous, or that it housed something incredibly inhuman. In fact, it looked so innocent that it could have easily fooled everyone into thinking that they were in the wrong place. The only thing that linked them to the possibility of Addison being there was the loud gunshot that echoed across the empty place in the exact moment they arrived.

As soon as they were deep enough into the clearing, everyone, including Archer, Bizzy, Agatha and the detective rushed out of the car, the detective barking orders at his men to take their positions. The gunshot they heard was not to be taken lightly. It signalled that they needed to act quickly or else they would be too late.

Derek struggled with the blankets and was able to lay his feet on the ground, standing shakily as he felt his knees buckle at the effort. He wanted to rush along with them, knowing that the gunshot he heard could've either ended or saved his wife's life. It was wishful thinking if he thought Addison was able to outdo Peter Jones.

The detective ran, his gun held in position as Archer stayed closely behind him, counting to three before kicking the front door down.

"Seattle Police Department! Put your hands up!" he yelled into the empty room, pointing his gun in protection. When no one answered, he gestured for his men to move.

Archer stepped into the house, his ear straining to hear any sound of life. And then it clicked. _All I remember is that we were trapped in a basement of some sort, _he remembered, Derek's words echoing in his mind. The thought was confirmed by a soft scratching from somewhere underneath him. He could hear someone pounding softly, as if trying to escape.

He bolted all of a sudden from where he was standing, running in the direction of the sound. He rushed down the creaking stairs and searched frantically for it. Behind him, the detective and his men followed, their pistols raised in case of any surprises.

The hallway at the bottom of the house was dark and dingy, like something taken out of a horror film. His eyes moved around until they chanced upon the metal door, locked and bolted and hidden slightly from view by the darkness of the place.

"I'm coming, Addie!" he yelled, rushing to the door and twisting the big wheel, to no avail. It was locked, and no amount of applied force could open it. He pressed his ear to the door and listened for any sounds, cursing at the lack of movement from the room.

"Addie, hang in there, sis. We're getting you out."

He stepped aside, allowing the men to pound on the door with their guns, trying desperately to unlock the steel door. They used every trick they knew, including the old paper clip trick, but they couldn't open it. It was stuck, and whoever fired that gun a while ago was alive. And whomever it hit was possibly dying.

-

Peter fell to the ground in a loud thump, shocking Addison as she watched him heap over the floor. She bent down and picked the gun up, shakily throwing it to the far corner of the room and running to the door. She didn't care if he was still alive, she didn't bother checking for a pulse or if he was really out cold. All she wanted was to leave the godforsaken place before everything went dark in her sight.

She tried to pry the door open, but she couldn't. Her strength was dwindling by the second, and it was getting increasingly hard to stay focused. She may have just possibly killed the man who killed her father, but not before he had tried to kill her. She couldn't find comfort in it, only panic.

Her hope started to fade as she realized the door was bolted, and that she couldn't open it in the state she was in. Her hands searched frantically for a way to open the door, her fingers feeling for something that could link her to her freedom.

But alas, she found none, and soon, she found herself, sliding down from the wall, her knees bent to her chest, her arms hugging her body. The image of Derek and Anthony looked on from where they stood in the center of the room, Anthony's hand outstretched. Slowly, she reached out, her hand longing to touch something invisible. And then, just like that, the world went black and she drifted off to a land of unconsciousness.

-

Derek waddled slowly to the basement, his heart pounding at seeing everyone rush to open the door. But it wouldn't budge, and every inch of his being wanted to rip it off with all the strength he could muster.

He could see the men frantically trying to open the door, and his heart clenched at the thought of his wife being there, alone or dying. He walked over slowly, almost tripping over before Archer caught him.

"Take it easy, Derek," he warned as he allowed him to lean on his body.

Derek nodded. "Aren't there any more efficient ways to open the door?" he asked, his voice quivering amid the loud banging coming from the men trying to open it.

Archer shook his head. "Not that we could think of. Got any ideas?"

He thought for a moment, and the shrugged. "How about we pound from the top?"

Archer seemed to consider the suggestion and nodded. "Detective! Maybe we could try another way. From the top maybe?"

The detective sighed, commissioning more men to start pounding from the ground floor and try their luck. "I hope your idea's a good one, Dr. Montgomery."

"It was his idea," he said, gesturing to Derek. "And it's the best one I've heard since we got here."

-

The men gave up on the steel door, instead concentrating on the upper floor to gain entrance into the enclosed space. Meanwhile, Derek had situated himself by the door, leaning on it heavily as his hands grazed upon the barricade that kept him from his wife.

"Addison?" he said into the door, not feeling the least bit silly about what he was doing. "Addie, honey, can you hear me?"

He pressed his ear against the cold metal, hoping for a sign that she was still alive, or that she was even there at all. He listened for any sound that could possibly rebuild the hope that was slowly shattering by the second.

"Hang in there," he whispered, blocking out the sounds of the loud pounding above him.

-

The workers cleared away the last of the layer, revealing an abyss as big as manhole, and the dark room underneath the house. Everyone peered in, as if momentarily forgetting that someone's life was in danger if they didn't work fast.

Archer cleared the small crowd away from the hole, shining a flashlight, its beam landing on Peter's heap, bleeding profusely on the ground. His face was down, and his body was limp. Hastily, and with renewed hope, Archer shined the light around the room, his eyes widening at Addison's slumped form by the doorway, her body just as pale and lifeless as Peter's was.

"She's there!" he cried, the excitement and the joy mixing with his worry and anxiety. "Someone get her out of there!"

Everyone scattered in momentary relief to find a way to lower someone into the hole. But Archer couldn't wait any longer, so he hoisted himself on to the hole and took a deep breath before jumping into the basement, his feet landing perfectly on the ground. Immediately, he rushed to Addison's side, grabbing her wrist and trying to feel for a pulse underneath her milky skin.

"Hey! Addie! It's me, Archie. Come on, wake up," he pleaded, patting her face in an attempt to wake her.

Above him, men shined the lights on him as they scurried to lower the detective in. Once in the room, the detective unlocked the steel door, allowing entrance to Derek and the paramedics.

"Addie? Listen to me. You're gonna make it, okay? Just stay with me?"

But Addison wasn't moving. Her lips were pallid and her face had lost all its color. She was pale and lifeless to an extent that it made Archer shiver a little in sheer panic. He cradled his sister against his chest, rocking her back and forth as he waited for the stretcher to come, hoping Addison would make it.

He didn't know what he would do without her. Addison was the reason he was the man he was. She gave him reason to be strong, to be brave, because she always told him she needed someone to look up to. And now his sister was at the brink of death, and he was almost powerless to save her. The thought chilled him to the core.

When the stretcher came, he helped load her on and squeezed her hand tightly as he allowed Bizzy to take his place. He stayed behind and watched as Peter Jones, too, was loaded on to a stretcher, blood dripping from his body. Hatred coursed through Archer's body. It was unlike anything he had felt before, and to see the man who killed his father face to face made him want to throw a violent fit right there and then. But he knew he couldn't. He knew it would be to no avail. Because whether or not he showed his true emotions, his father would still be dead and Addison would still be dying.

By the doorway, Derek's eyes widened as he saw Addison's pale body being pulled on to the stretcher, his mind not processing that the paramedics were rushing to get her to the ambulance because she didn't have a pulse.

He wanted so much to reach out and hold her hand, as if his touch could bring her back. But he had to restrain himself for he knew that she needed immediate attention.

"How is she?" he asked frantically, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

No one answered him, only continued their way up the house and outside, to the ambulance. Archer put his hand around Derek's shoulder and helped him up the stairs.

"How is she?" he asked again, eyeing Archer firmly.

Archer sighed. "We don't know yet. But we can't feel a pulse."

"And Peter?"

He shrugged. "He's still alive, but he's lost a lot of blood. He may not make it."

-

At first, he had refused to go back to bed, to be the patient once again while his wife was undergoing extensive surgery. He knew he couldn't stay still while Addison was battling with the throes of death. But above everything, he knew he couldn't sit in bed idly and wait for a miracle to happen.

In the end, however, the chief had told him sternly that he would be of no help whether or not he was in the waiting room. And that whatever was meant to happen was going to happen, regardless of where he was when it finally did. He had grudgingly agreed, in a way tired out from all the excitement of finding the cottage, drilling a hole and finding Addie. He needed to find a way to ease his thoughts, to get him to believe that Addison was going to make it and that she was going to find her justice.

"I can feel your negative energy from the end of the hall," Mark said, leaning against the doorway.

Derek glared. "Why aren't you at the waiting room with everyone else?"

"I figured you wanted company," he said simply, taking a seat next to Derek's bed. "Like what the chief said, what's gonna happen is gonna happen."

"Then why aren't you any more worried, if you claim to love her so much?"

Mark sighed. "I'm worried, Derek. Just as much as you are and everyone else. But I'm much better at masking it than any of you."

"Why are you trying to hide it?"

"Are you just going to keep asking me questions and not accept things as they are? I'm trying here, Derek."

He scoffed. "Trying to push my buttons? You don't even have to try. It comes naturally."

"I'm trying to be supportive," Mark corrected.

"You can't be supportive when you're planning on whisking my _wife_ away to some place while we're still married."

Mark closed his eyes, rubbing his temples at the conversation. "Look, I'm sorry, man, okay? I'm sorry things are unfolding the way they are. But I can't help it. I love her. And god knows she deserves more than the crap you've been giving her."

"And you actually think you can give her more than what I have? That you can commit and make her happy?"

He clenched his jaw in determination. "I can. Just because you're too blind to see it, doesn't mean my emotions aren't there. My heart is set. I love her."

Derek was about to reply when he thought about it again, deciding that Mark wasn't worth his energy or effort. Addison needed his strength, and he wouldn't waste it on someone who had betrayed him.

"If you love her like you claim you do," Derek said finally, "I think it's time _you_ weren't blinded and see that she came here to work things out with _me_, because I'm her husband, and she loves me."

-

"You have to call it, chief."

Richard shook his head, refusing to give up and not get the justice of not letting the person on the table live to tell the tale. "I'm can't."

"We've been at this for 30 minutes. Reviving should only take 10. You have to call it," the scrub nurse said again, her own heart clenching at the sight before her. The chief was frantically and angrily pushing in every drug he knew of, and obsessively performed CPR for the nth time.

"More clean blood!" he yelled, gesturing for them to pump in more stock blood into the patient, knowing it would cleanse the patient's system and could possibly link them to a pulse.

Everyone is the room fought the urge to move, all them sure that they should give up. They stared sympathetically at the chief, their expressions grave.

Miranda Bailey placed a comforting hand on Richard, her face angry with injustice. "It's time to call it." She stared at Richard firmly before clearing her throat in an attempt to keep her voice steady. "I know you wanted justice. We all wanted it. But we have to accept it," her voice caught in her throat. "You have to call it."

Richard Webber sighed, removing his scrub cap and taking a step back, his tears welling in his eyes. Shaking his head, he let a lone tear escape and breathed in a deep, calming breath. He knew Miranda was right. That justice would not be served, but that he had to end it just the same. The finality of the situation shred his heart into pieces.

"Time of death, 18:23."

* * *

I'm still not happy with this chap. Maybe I should rewrite for a couple more days before I write the next one? IDK. What do you guys think? Thank you so much for reading and I hope you like it. :)


	14. Chapter 13

AN: This is a really late and really short update. I'm sorry it's not any better. My head's sort of up in the clouds these days. Plus, I was looking for a way to make a transition from action to romantic plot and here it is. This is actually shorter than my first chapter (the prologue), and it pretty much surprised me because I tried to write this with the most emotion I could imagine.

But anyway, I promise the next chapter's going to be better. Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chap. :) You guys are awesome, as always. :) Thanks for reading!

-I own nothing.

* * *

Addison stood in the middle of the freezing Connecticut wind, her heels almost buried beneath the light snow falling from the sky. It seemed fitting, how the skies were mourning with her and her family as they set out to bury her father. And as they began the rough mile walk to the cemetery, she couldn't help but feel the most profound remorse she knew existed; remorse, coupled with extreme anger and loathing. Her father was the best father anyone could have ever had. He was such a constant in her life that to her, it wasn't enough that half of Hartford came to mourn with her family. To her, it wasn't enough that there were thousands upon thousands of flowers, well-wishes, condolences and heartfelt sorrow from the people who loved her father dearly. No. To her, nothing could ever sum up the life Anthony Barron Montgomery had lived, and that was the most hurtful of all.

Peter Jones was dead. She had killed him with that one desperate attempt to outdo him during a test of strength. But it didn't feel enough. She didn't feel like she had avenged her father's death, like the cost that Peter Jones paid was enough to let her get a good night's sleep. During the entire time she was recovering, she couldn't help but feel intense bouts of rage towards the man who spun her world upside down, leaving her with a wound she knew would never heal. She suddenly knew how Peter had felt like when he wanted to kill her even after her father had died. She did not feel repentant for she did not feel vindicated, and it wasn't a comforting thought to know that she never would.

"You okay, Addie?"

She turned her head to see Derek, looking at her with concern in his eyes. He had been such a constant these past days that it bordered on hovering, in her eyes at least. She shrugged and faced forward, concentrating on the path they were tredding. They were at the end of the procession, Addison walking slowly to match Derek's pace. He wasn't in good shape just yet, and she wanted to take advantage of the delay. She didn't want to be too close to Archer and Bizzy anyway, because then they would be too close to the casket. And being too close to the casket meant such a finality that she wasn't prepared to handle.

"Addie…"

"I'm fine, Derek," she snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Just… stop, okay? I'm as fine as I could be considering we're on our way to bury my _father_. So please… stop." Her eyes implored him to understand, to empathize with the sorrow and the emotional roller coaster ride she was presently battling with.

Derek nodded, trying not to wince at the bitterness in Addison's voice. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice sincerely apologetic.

Addison sighed, undoing the fists her hands had balled into and reached for Derek's hand, squeezing it lightly. "I know," she relented with a sigh.

He took her hand and held on to it tightly, his own palm sweating slightly despite the cold. "I love you," he stated, the words far from untrue.

She stared straight ahead as she did a while ago and pursed her lips, nodding. She didn't know how to reply because she honestly didn't know how she felt for him anymore. So instead, faked a small smile and uttered the only words she could think of that were true. "I know."

-

The casket being hauled inside the Montgomery Family Mausoleum was enough to send everyone into a fit of great sadness. Addison held on tightly to Derek, drawing strength from him as the priest voiced the final rites, blessing the elegant white casket before lawyers and friends alike pushed it into its final resting place.

_Attorney Anthony Barron Montgomery_

_1935- 2009_

_Beloved husband, father and friend._

-

_She blinked her eyes open, for some miraculous reason fully aware of what was happening, of what had transpired. Although she couldn't quite remember what had happened after she lost consciousness, she could remember every sordid detail before that, from her father dying to Peter Jones falling to the ground in a bloody heap._

_Her eyes scanned the room, landing on her mother's relieved gaze as she struggled to sit up._

_Bizzy put a restraining hand on her daughter, smiling sympathetically. "Oh, Addie-bee, stay right where you are. You need your rest." She shuffled around the room, drawing back the curtains to let the sunlight in and shine on her pale face._

"_Mom," she tried to protest, fighting against Bizzy's efforts. But she was powerless against whatever force Bizzy had turned into, the determination of a Forbes-Montgomery still ever-present in her actions._

"_Honey, you got us all worried. But thank heavens you're safe," Bizzy said, her voice laced with love. "You must rest."_

_Addison shook her head as she acquiesced to Bizzy's prodding. "Dad," she whispered, floodgates of memories flashing like a never-ending movie in her head. Her father was dead, and she felt as if it were her fault. _

_Bizzy sighed. "You know?" she asked sadly. Her face softened into one of pure sadness, her husband's death still lingering in the air. _

"_I do." _

"_His body is at Hartford. We'll all fly over as soon you're strong enough." She tried to act indifferent, strong even. But it wasn't easy. She had to fight against her own instincts, her own emotions, just so she could find a reason to make it to the next day. _

"_You haven't buried him?" The surprise in Addison's voice was quite evident. _

"_It would have been wrong to do so if you weren't safe and okay," she said simply, turning her gaze away from her daughter's stern and inquiring ones.  
__"I mean, I didn't... we didn't want his death to be in vain." _

_Addison nodded, fighting against the strong emotions that were starting to bubble. She desperately needed to get her mind off of whatever happened. She wanted to forget, to wake up from the nightmare she was currently living. Her silence plagued the room as she tried to gather herself, to piece together the information so she could come up with a logical way to handle it. _

"_Addie?"_

"_What about Derek?" she asked suddenly, meeting Bizzy's eyes. "How is he?" _

_Bizzy sighed once again, reaching for Addison's hand subconsciously and squeezing it. "Recovering well. He's been worried about you." _

_A flash of red crossed her vison as she recounted the stabs and the blows he had endured at Peter's hands. It was gruesome, something that made her own heart cleft in pain_. "_And his wounds?" she whispered. _

"_He's well, Addison," Bizzy repeated firmly. "Everyone is more concerned about you. You were out cold for a couple of days," she explained. "He drugged you up pretty badly that you needed three transfusions." _

"_I'm fine," Addison insisted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her medical condition. It was nothing compared to what had happened to Derek, and most especially nothing compared to what happened to Anthony. _

_The older woman stared at the younger one, as if trying to read her thoughts and expressions. She was a mystery to a lot of people, hard to read and unpredictable. But not to Bizzy. "You're grieving. Or at least, trying hard not to," she whispered, stating whatever it was she saw in her eyes. _

"_I just want to forget." She sighed, staring at her hands as they fiddled with the ends of the thin blanket. "I want to forget everything." _

"_Luckily for you, darling, you can. Peter Jones is dead." _

"_I think I already know that," Addison stated, her eyes void of any emotion. "I… don't feel… free regardless of the fact," she admitted quietly. "I won't forget. God, mom... I'll never forget." _

"_I understand. You won't forget, but you'll move forward. And you'll forgive, eventually. It's all going to work out. We have to believe that or else all of this would be for nothing." _

_The room was quiet until Addison's soft sobs wracked her body, shaking her now fragile frame as the grief settled in. Bizzy pulled her close, rubbing circles on her back to try to comfort her. In retrospect, it was fitting that mother and daughter grieved for their loss, regardless of the fact that strength was something they valued with their lives. _

"_I just miss him," Addison cried, grabbing on to her mother in a desperate attempt to find solace amid the turmoil. _

_-_

Agatha Jones had no idea how she felt. She supposed she was sad, but the word was too generic, too unfeeling to encompass whatever myriad of emotions coursed through her. Her husband died, and although it should have had no bearing considering how she had lived the past 25 years of her life without him, the finality of burying him six feet under was enough to stir emotions she did not know she possessed.

_Hate_.

It was such a strong word, almost as strong as whatever she was feeling. But she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she hated. She hated her husband, she hated Anthony Montgomery, she hated Addison Shepherd, she even hated herself. She had no idea what to make of the situation she was in. All she knew was that if she did not find a way to curb the hate, she would end up doing something she would regret incredibly.

-

Her mind drifted off to the countless memories she had made with her father, from the times he could pick her up and dance with her in the living room when she was five, to the moments he brought her comforting juju in the middle of the night after a break-up. Her father was the best one, exaggerations not included. She loved him dearly. And to have to bury him during a rough patch in her own life made things harder for her. The realization that her father would not be there anymore to call her in the middle of the night and provide solace struck such a deep and reverberating cord that it physically hurt to breathe. It was hard to lose him, but it was harder to lose him believing it was all her fault.

Beside her, Derek held her hand in his as the driver drove them to the family mansion. Her normally strong hand was thin and bony, even pale and clammy. It was hard to imagine that this what had come of whatever hardship she had endured. She was nothing but an empty shell of who she used to be, the events of the past days taking its toll on her. She was different, and it was painful to see her unravelling before him that way.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, concern lacing his voice.

"Like my father just died," she answered bitterly, staring out of the window as the scenery passed her by.

Derek nodded, squeezing her hand. "I know how that feels like. I mean… when dad died… he just… left this big void in the family that we couldn't fill until Nancy started dating and ranting about her boyfriends." He chuckled slightly at his own wry humour, watching carefully for Addison's reaction.

The attempt at lightening the mood proved futile as Addison continued to stare indifferently, wanting to sink into oblivion. The rest of the car ride was quiet, uneventful even. They were both so immersed in their own thoughts that they didn't even feel the tension starting to thicken in the small, cramped vehicle.

As they neared the mansion, Addison suddenly cleared her throat, removing her hand from Derek's grasp. She turned to look at Derek with such determination in her eyes that Derek was almost sure she had bounced back. "I'm moving back to New York," she stated. "I'll have my lawyer draw up the papers and fax it to you in Seattle."

Derek gaped, a million thoughts running through his head at Addison's quiet declaration. Did he hear her correctly? Now after what had just happened? "What?!"

"You heard me, Derek. We seriously have to stop beating around the bush. God knows my dad died because we all did. What I said is what I want, and what I'm doing. We can't continue playing this never-ending cycle, Derek. You win. I just… want to move forward with my life." The defeat was expertly masked with fabricated strength as Addison straightened her back to prove a point.

"But Addison—"

"We'll talk later, I promise." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as the frustration crept in. "I just needed to tell you that I couldn't keep fighting. Not anymore, at least. Dad would've wanted me to live, and life as an adulterous bitch isn't the way I intend on spending the rest of my life."

* * *

There. Chapter's short because I wanted to be able to smoothly shift the plot genres. I'm not saying it's going to be romance until the end. I left Agatha there for a reason. (*wink*). But yeah, for now, it's ADDEK romance until I think it's time to put in more action. :) Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think.. :)


	15. Chapter 14

AN: Thank you all for the reviews guys! They rock! :D :D This is the next chapter, where the romantic plot is kicking off. :) There's still going to be action in the next couple of chapters, but not until I've laid down the story better. :) Hope you all like this one. Don't kill me, though. :)) Thanks for reading.

-I still own nothing.

* * *

"_Addison."_

_She looked up from the medical journal occupying her thoughts at the recovery room, seeing Mark standing by the doorway. She gave him a half-smile before turning her attention back to her reading material._

_Mark walked further in to the room, taking her smile as an invitation and sitting down on the chair beside the bed. "Well, you're more welcoming than Derek was." _

"_I wouldn't have been if all of these things weren't happening," she said honestly, meeting Mark's gaze. "But I… just don't need the chaos right now."_

_He nodded, taking in her appearance. She was sadder than he remembered her to be, her eyes more sullen and set back, and their color losing its vibrancy. "How are you Addison?"_

_She shrugged unsurely. "As well as could be expected." She sighed, closing the journal and turning to Mark. "I know why you came here. No matter how much you deny it, I'm always going to have known you for 20 years, so I know how your mind works." _

_He smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat. "So will you consider?" _

_Addison turned her head to the window, observing the sunshine as it hit the glass panels and flooded her room. "I don't know. I mean… before… dad died, I was so sure I was going to leave Derek, you know, sign the papers and be done with it. But now that he's dead and now that Derek's been trying awfully hard to prove to me things he should have a long time ago, I have no idea what to do." _

"_New York is home," he said simply. "And he's in love with the intern." He didn't try to sugar coat things, knowing that if there was anything Addison hated, it was not being told the whole truth. So he opted to word the statement in the simplest fashion, trying to reduce the complexity of the situation. _

_Her eyes suddenly filled with unexpected tears the thought, nodding because she knew it was true, no matter how much Derek denied it. It hurt her too much to even allow herself to grieve for a marriage she knew was headed this way a long time ago anyway. "I used to think I was strong enough alone," she whispered, wiping at the tears angrily as they cascaded across her cheeks. _

_He took her hand in his and patted it gently. "You still are. You're Addison Forbes Montgomery, with or without the Shepherd." _

_She nodded. "I don't know, Mark. I honestly don't." _

"_You know that I love you, right?" he asked pleadingly. "And that I'll never hurt you the way he did?"_

_She turned her head to face him, her face compassionate. "In the most unfortunate way, I do. But I can't… I don't… know if I can be with you, Mark. It's not going to be fair. You're going to be a replacement for Derek, and you deserve so much better." _

_Mark smiled cautiously, taking her hand and pressing it on his cheek. "What if I'm willing?"_

"_I'm not," she said firmly, shaking her head defiantly. "If I… divorce Derek… I'm moving back to New York. But you and I—"_

"_I'll wait," he declared. "I'll wait until you're ready. I love you, Addison. And I can teach you to love me, too." _

"_That's the point, Mark. I love you, I do. But I'm never going to be in love with you," she said, her voice pained. _

_He looked away to conceal the hurt that was beginning to show on his face. But he quickly masked it with determination, facing her again and clenching his jaw. "It doesn't make anything any less true, Adds. I love you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you. Just… please… don't write me off." _

_She sighed, knowing that not writing him off completely was the least she could do after she used him. In retrospect, she knew she did. And it hurt her to know that she hurt both of the men that meant so much in her life. They were her rocks, and losing them both meant losing her courage as well. And with her father gone, she didn't know where she could turn to anymore. _

_Slowly, she nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. "No promises, Mark, okay?"_

"_That's good enough for me," he exhaled in relief, smiling softly at her. _

"_I'll… think about New York. I mean, if you didn't come I'd still be thinking about it anyway so… yeah. I'll think about New York."_

"_And signing the papers?" he asked quietly. He knew he shouldn't have asked, but he had to. It was the question that would dictate the future Addison was writing for herself._

_She wouldn't deny it if people said she was confused, and undecided, because she was. Derek was a part of her life for the past 11 years, and never did she ever imagine separating herself from that man who defined her quite well. But it was also clear that his heart was not hers completely, and that Meredith Grey wasn't just someone he would forget because they were put in a trying kidnapping situation. It was going to be a touch decision to make. _

"_I don't know, Mark. But it's a possibility."_

-

Derek sat adjacent to Addison in the extensive Montgomery estate, the two of them alone in the big dining hall on the ground floor. Addison had led him to the room, knowing full well that their talk was long overdue. They both needed to talk about what had happened, and to come to a decision about how they would move forward from it all.

Addison's stance was less than confident, her red hair tied neatly into a bun in hopes of camouflaging it. She was wearing black from head to toe, her face betraying all the conflicting emotions she was currently feeling. But the sadness was dominant, and the despondence reigned.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to fill the tensed silence between them. "You're moving back to New York," he said simply, his voice strained. The lump in his throat was still present, not comprehending how Addison still wanted to leave him after everything they went through together.

She nodded, her eyes cast downward.

"When did you decide this?" he inquired, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

"This morning. But I had been toying around the idea since before… everything happened," she admitted.

He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice as he spoke. "Does Mark have anything to do with this?"

Addison shrugged. "Not really. The decision's mine."

"And you want a divorce? After everything you and I went through, the good and the bad?"

She sighed. "Derek, this isn't easy for me, okay? I mean, I'm not even sure what I want—"

"But you want a divorce? You're not sure but you want one?" he asked disbelievingly, his anger slowly creeping in.

"Look, I'm not sure about anything, okay? Yes, I'm not sure I want a divorce but god, I just know that I can't keep living this way! I can't keep on hoping you'd notice me tonight or tomorrow, and I can't keep on living constantly in fear that you'd find someone else."

"Have you not been listening to a word I've been saying these past days, Addison? Meredith is a thing of the past now. I'm better, I _want_ to be better. I want to make things work with _you_, damn it! I'm willing to fight!"

"So now you want to fight for me? For our marriage? Really, Derek?" she said, her voice escalating. "I've been waiting for you to care for the past two years, and somehow, just because you saw the potential of actually losing me, you cut your crap and start noticing me? I'm not a consolation prize, Derek. I'm more than second best, and it all boils down to the fact that _I don't trust you_!"

"Trust, Addison?" he asked, his voice raising as well. "You talk to me about trust when you screwed my best friend on our bed on a night you knew I was going to be home? Trust? If there's anyone who's supposed to not trust, it's me! Because you betrayed me and you betrayed my trust! But here I am, trying to work things out with you because I love you! I love you!"

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stood up from her chair and started pacing. "I trusted you to not break my heart, Derek. And you did! You held it in your hand and you literally crushed it with the way you treated me! You stopped caring. But now you say that you do, that you care and that you love me! If you really love me like you say you do, you'll let me go! Because you're hurting me Derek," she cried, her tears turning into sobs. "More and more each day, you take a piece of me and rip it into shreds and I just… have to save myself from being completely obliterated."

She paused, gasping for breath as Derek stared straight ahead, unable to see her pained this much. "I screwed your best friend and I hurt you. For that, I am completely sorry. But if there's anything I am at fault for here, it would be for loving you so much that even when you treat me like dirt under your feet, I stay. But guess what, Derek. Mark… he's going to take care of me. I mean, I'm not saying I want a relationship with him when clearly my stupid heart wants you, but he would never hurt me the way you have. Maybe it's too late for us," she whispered. "Maybe eleven years was all we really had with each other."

Derek wiped angrily away at the tears that were falling freely from his eyes, his heart clenching at the words Addison had just spoken. Mark was going to be there to care for her, and in a way, she was right. Mark would never hurt her because Mark knew better than to make the same mistakes twice.

"But you love me," he whispered, breathing in deeply. "I thought we don't quit?" The hurt in his voice was too much that he had to bury his face in his hands, allowing the floodgates to take over him. "I thought we don't quit," he repeated, sobbing.

"You quit on us when you walked out that night, Derek. You quit on us while I was willing to fight for you. I love you Derek, I do. With all my heart. But I have to protect myself. I am not a glutton for punishment. I don't enjoy hurting."

He nodded though he kept his face buried in his hand, his entire body shaking with cries. "I love you Addison," he said truthfully, the declaration causing her to cry harder, her own heart beating erratically in her chest.

"When I thought I was going to lose you, I thought I was going to die along with you. And those… those moments at the shack… they made me realize just how important you are to me. Please… please don't quit," he begged, not caring that this was the first time he ever begged for anything this hard his entire life. He was willing to give up everything to be with her, to prove to her that she came ahead of everything else in his life.

She shook her head, unwilling to give in to his sobs even though it was killing her to see him suffer that way. "It's too late, Derek. Please… just let me go…Don't make this any harder than it already is."

He finally lifted his face from his hands, meeting Addison's pained gaze with an equally pained one of his. They stared at each other for a long while, reading each other's thoughts as their tears continued to fall.

"I love you, Addison."

She nodded, walking over to him and embracing him, allowing him to bury his face in her chest as she hugged him from the neck. "It's going to be okay, Derek. You'll be free and you can have Meredith. You don't have to feel guilty about anything. Not at all."

Images of Addison being raped and tortured clouded his vision, causing him to tighten his grip on her waist. "Addie, please."

"I'm sorry, Derek," she whispered, deciding that in that moment, nothing was harder or more difficult to do than letting him go.

He looked up, his eyes pleading. "Compromise with me, Addison," he offered. "Please."

"I think I've done enough of that. I've given you more chances than you deserve. Let's face it, Derek, it's the end of the line for us. You're free."

As she uttered those words, they both dissolved into a fit of sobs, the second wave stronger than the first as they held on to each other for dear life.

To Addison, letting go of Derek was bittersweet. Not only did she say goodbye to her father, but she was saying goodbye to the man who she had spent more than half of her life with. He would be able to pursue the young intern who had seemingly stolen his heart, and he would finally be happy. Because despite all the hurt they put each other through, it all boiled down to the fact that she wanted him happy, even if she couldn't be the one to do that.

But for Derek, letting Addison go meant he was failing not only himself, but the love of his life. There was no exaggeration whenever he thought of her as his soul mate, because it was true no matter what angle you looked at it. Letting her go meant that he did not keep his promises, his vows, and that he had hurt her beyond repair. It hurt to think that the woman he loved with all his heart was walking away from him now, granting him no chance to better himself, only remorse for his actions. He had hurt her, and letting her go would quite possibly be the biggest mistake and biggest regret he would have in his life.

Unbeknownst to them both, their screaming had beckoned some of the guests gathered for the funeral to the door separating the dining hall from the common area. Addison's mother in particular, had to excuse herself from the crowd to her room in order to keep her tears unseen by all. Losing her husband was one thing, but to see her daughter broken the way she was made things more real, more permanent. She sighed heavily, knowing that it would take a miracle for things to go back to the way they were.

Archer leaned on the door to the dining hall, eyeing Mark as he sat with Savvy and Weiss at the parlor. He didn't know how he felt, honestly. He wanted to kick Derek's ass for hurting his sister, but Addison would never allow anyone to stand up for her and to be strong for her.

Walking over to where Mark sat, he settled himself beside the plastic surgeon, shaking his head. "My sister seems to think you're going to take care of her."

Mark nodded. "I will."

Archer sighed. "She's very fragile, Mark. One wrong move will send her cowering in fear."

"I promise I'll do the best I can. I don't want to hurt her Archer."

He nodded, pursing his lips in thought. "Her bags are being boxed up as we speak," he stated. "She's moving back to New York."

"I know."

"And you'll take care of her there?"

"I will," he said with determination, looking at Savvy who nodded in agreement. Savvy herself knew that Mark would never allow Addison to be hurt again. He was a changed man, Addison had tamed him. Savvy had never seen Mark so serious and committed in his life. And because of that, Savvy was sure Mark and Addie would keep each other in place.

Archer nodded again. "I trust you Sloan. Don't hurt my sister like Derek did."

Mark smiled slightly. "I won't Archer. I'll take her home to New York and before you know it, she'll be the same old Addie."

"Just, without Derek right?"

He nodded in affirmation. "Without Derek," he confirmed, knowing that he wouldn't let Addison go again.

* * *

Okay. Don't kill me. :)) Or, you could. Whatever. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! :)


	16. Chapter 15

AN: I'm sorry it took a while to upload. is killing me. There's still some error with my uploading so I head to tweak my document manager a bit. It's annoying, but it'll have to do. :) Anyway, thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter. As always, they mean a lot and they get me to write faster. :) Here's the next one! Thanks for reading.

- I own nothing.

* * *

Addison packed the last of her personal things in a small suitcase, opting to do it before Derek came home to the trailer after his shift. He refused to take more time off after the incident, and once again threw himself into work right after the funeral despite his health. Addison wanted to protest, to yell at him for not caring about his condition more than he should have, but thought the better of it considering she was the reason he was doing it in the first place.

She didn't know what to do. Leaving Derek was by far the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life. She loved him, but she realized that love just wasn't enough to keep a marriage from failing. Sighing heavily, she zipped up her suitcase and carried it to the floor, grabbing a piece of paper from by the phone and scribbling down a note as silent tears made their way down her cheek.

_D,_

_I'll have the papers faxed to you as soon as I can. I know this isn't how you expected things to turn out, but this is the only way I know to deal with the situation, or at least the only way I can protect myself. Believe me, if I could change things I would. Letting you go is more painful than anything I have ever experienced, but I'd like to believe this isn't the end of us. _

_I thought about leaving my rings with you, but I thought the better of it. Who knows, maybe someday we'll find our way back to each other, if we're meant to be, and have use for them again. But in the meantime, try to move on with Meredith, as I will with Mark. Maybe we're actually meant for happiness this time. _

_I will always love you, Derek._

_With all my love,_

_A_

She placed the note on the kitchen table and picked up her bags, taking one last look at the trailer before heading out and driving away, leaving the love of her life behind.

-

Derek turned his wrist and looked at his watch, sighing heavily as he realized that Addison's flight back to New York had taken off an hour ago. He had been in surgery the whole day, pushing himself to work more insane hours just to forget, to numb the pain. And in effect, he had lost the chance to say goodbye to her before she boarded her plane. Although it was clear that they would see more of each other as the divorce loomed ahead, it would have been different if he was able to say his farewells before she moved back to Manhattan.

"Derek?"

He looked up from his position on the on-call room bed, noticing Meredith standing by the doorway. She gingerly walked into the dark room, holding a bottle of water while fishing out a pill from her scrub pockets.

"The chief wanted me to take these to you. You forgot to take your medications," she explained, extending the water bottle and the pill.

Derek nodded, taking what she was offering. "Thank you," he said quietly, sitting up to take it.

She nodded and took a seat on the bed, eyeing Derek unsurely. "How are you feeling, Derek?"

He shrugged. "Numb. And I expect to stay numb for at least another week."

"So you're working non-stop until next week?" she questioned, her brows rising.

"I just want to forget. I don't want to feel that hurt again. I lost her for good this time and I just… want to avoid thinking about it."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" she asked understandingly. "I mean, I know it does. I know how it feels to see the person you love walk away from you into the arms of someone else." There really wasn't any bitterness in her voice, but she couldn't help but lace her tone with slight guilt tripping.

Derek sighed, rubbing his temples at the conversation he was having. "I'm sorry Meredith, but I really don't need this right now."

"Of course you don't. Not now, not ever. Like you'll never need me."

He looked up at Meredith's quiet outburst, her whole being radiating hurt and angst. "Mer…"

"Addison wanted you to give me a chance. Why won't you give me that chance now?"

"It's not that easy, Meredith. I just lost my wife, someone I'm still madly in love with—"

"So now you're madly in love with her when not 3 weeks ago you couldn't fathom ever having a good night's sleep with her beside you? When not 3 weeks ago you couldn't even look at her and tell her how you feel about her? Madly in love, Derek? Really?"

"I don't expect you to understand, Meredith," he said sharply, his eyes aflame with controlled anger. "You weren't there to see her tortured. You weren't there to see her raped right before your very eyes. You weren't there when you saw her breakdown and lose all semblance of sanity. You weren't there," he repeated. "So don't go about judging my actions when clearly, you have no idea what you're talking about."

He paused, trying to piece together his thoughts so he wouldn't say anything he would regret sooner or later. "Yes, Addison wanted me to give you a chance. And maybe I will, when I'm ready. But I am still technically married to her, and I would like to extend to her the respect she clearly deserves. I'm not going to cheat on her again," he said firmly.

Meredith sighed, undeterred. "But Derek, it won't be cheating. She's giving you her blessing."

"Against her will, I believe. She doesn't know what she wants, but I'm willing to wait until she's sure about Mark. Only then can I move on," he stated firmly, wanting nothing more than for Meredith to understand his situation. He loved his wife with all his heart, and if she wanted to divorce him, he would if that's what she really wanted. He would even go so far as to say that giving Meredith another chance would be because Addison had asked him of it, not because he actually wanted to.

Meredith sighed, the frustration evident. "You know, I never thought I'd be this girl," she admitted. "I never thought I'd be the dirty mistress who runs desperately after a man because of love. When I was young, and I saw my mother lose herself to the love she felt for the chief, I vowed I would never turn into her. But now, here I am." She raised her eyes and met his curious gaze, shaking her head in disbelief. "Don't you see, Derek? I don't want to be this way but I'm giving up everything I wanted just to spend the rest of my life with you. _I love you_," she emphasized, breathing in deeply.

"I know you do. But you have to understand; you deserve so much more than what I'm going to offer you. I love my wife, and if there's the slightest chance she still wants me, I'm not going anywhere."

Deja vou hit Meredith as she recalled Addison uttering similar words to her not 5 months past. And although everything in her was screaming for her to just leave the matter alone, she couldn't turn her back from what her heart truly felt. She loved him, and she was willing to fight for him no matter what.

"I love you," she repeated, her eyes ablaze with determination. "And if there's the slightest chance you still want me, I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly, mimicking Derek's words but with an edge of sheer resolve.

Derek could only gape as Meredith nodded her head in finality and walked out the door, leaving him to his thoughts more than he cared to be at the moment.

-

"You all settled in?"

Addison looked up from where she was bent over at the brownstone's living room, seeing her mother carrying a small box of personal belongings and setting it on the counter.

She nodded. "Almost."

"Good. I made us reservations for dinner, with Mark and Archer and Uncle John. You remember Uncle John, don't you honey?"

"The attorney?"

Bizzy nodded, smiling slightly. "He's going to help you with the… divorce," she finished quietly.

Addison could only nod. "About that—"

"I know you're hesitant, Addison. I understand that. But it's good to have the papers on hand just in case, plus with a notable lawyer by your side, things will surely go smoothly."

"I have papers, actually," Addison said matter-of-factly. "Daddy… Daddy drew them up when I first moved to Seattle."

"Then Uncle John will take care of the rest," she said tiredly. She walked to the couch and took a seat graciously, crossing her legs in the most ladylike of ways. "But that's not really want I wanted to talk about right now."

Her brow rose ever so slightly. "And what might you want to talk about, mother?"

Bizzy sighed, folding her arms neatly on her lap and straightening her back. "What are you planning to do with Mark?"

She definitely wasn't expecting her mother to bring up the affairs of her love life that soon, but she sighed, standing straight and walking to the loveseat adjacent to the couch and seating herself. "I don't know, honestly."

The older woman nodded, trying to conceal her own confusion and slight disapproval. "After everything with Derek?"

"Everyone's been asking me that question. I don't know. I don't know what I want with him. I mean, I love him but… I have to protect myself."

"He took a bullet for you," she pointed out. "That's got to count for something, Addison, if only to prove that he wants to make it work with you."

"So just because he saved my life, he gets a free pass for ruining the last 2 years of it? Come on, mother. You know me better than that. Just because he was my knight in shining whatever doesn't mean I'll fawn over him like some lovesick schoolgirl. That's not me. More importantly, it's not what Dad would want me to be like."

"Your father would want you to be happy. Even he wasn't blind to see that you suffer the way you do because you love him and you find happiness with him."

"Some things… just fade away, I suppose. I've finally found my spine amid the crisis, and all I want is to find myself again, be Addison before Derek."

"Or Addison without Derek," Bizzy said, her voice slightly disapproving. "And this thing with Mark?"

"Mark is going to take care of me. He said he wasn't going to push for a relationship. I'm just glad he remains a friend," she said impassively. "The least I could do for the man after I used him is to not write him off too soon."

"But you're giving him false hope."

She sighed, rubbing her temples slightly. "Maybe I am. But I just… want to figure things out myself before I rush into anything."

"I'm worried about you," Bizzy confessed. "After… after what happened, I know it'll take a while for you to bounce back. But I don't want you making any mistakes, Addie-bee. Just… just remember that you don't have forever to decide what you want. And that sooner or later, we're all going to have to move forward."

She paused, breathing in deeply as she studied her daughter, trying to listen to her words. "Honey, it's okay to be sad. It's okay to pick up the pieces of your life thinking it's the best thing to do. But Derek… he's going to take good care of you. I don't want to see you realizing things too late."

Addison nodded slowly, her eyes transfixed on the carpeted floor of the living room. She knew her mother's words were true, and sincere. She knew she cared about her welfare very much, and that without her guidance, she would never be able to find her way. But things have been too difficult to grasp lately. She hadn't even started grieving over her lost chance at justice, or the fact that she was violated and tortured and had cheated on death more times than she could count.

"I appreciate your concern mom but… I just need time. That's all I need right now," she stated, smiling in slight reassurance at her mother.

"Like I said, Addie-bee, I don't want you to start realizing things when it's too late, okay? Everyone's going to move forward eventually."

She tried to deny the fact that when her mother spoke those words, she felt a pang of hurt on her chest as she imagined Derek and Meredith together again.

-

Neither Addison nor Derek, or anyone else for that matter, could've anticipated the way things were going to unfold for them in the next couple of months. Neither of them could have realized that indeed, silent water runs deep, and that people surely keep their friends close, and their enemies closer.

* * *

Sorry about this one's formatting. is def killing me. Anyway, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!:)


	17. Chapter 16

AN: Hello everyone! Thank you for the kind reviews for the last chapter. :) I was expecting lotsa flames actually, but thank you! They mean a lot to me. :) Anyway, here's the next chapter. It's still going to be Addek, if you're wondering. :) This is now going to be a mix of romance and action, which I can hopefully pull off. :)) Hahahaha. Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

-I own nothing.

* * *

Addison was hunched over a case file at the nurses' station some four months after her father had died, studying her patient's medical history for a clinical procedure she was going to perform. It was a clinical trial, something she was anxious about, but thankful for nonetheless. It would serve as a much needed distraction. Just like Derek, she pushed herself into work and spent more hours at the hospital than at home, choosing to deny everything that had transpired in Seattle. Because if she allowed herself, for one measly minute, to dwell on the whole kidnapping thing, she knew she was going to break down for she hadn't dealt with it herself.

She and Derek were on trial separation, something the judge ordered after hearing from their marriage counselor. They went to court, her Uncle John standing beside her, as the judge ruled over her marriage's fate. The divorce would stay pending until after a year since the court order, and then they could decide if they still wanted to push through with it. Personally, Addison just wanted to get everything over with. She was tired of everything that surrounded her personal life, which was why she buried herself in medicine and insane hours at work. She wanted to dismiss all thoughts of Derek, because she was afraid she'd find that she missed him terribly, and would make her want to back out on the divorce. Addison, if any, was not indecisive and cowardly.

"Juju?"

She looked up at the sound of Mark's baritone voice behind her, feeling his body warmth every so slightly creep up in her skin. Turning around, she saw him offering her a steaming cup of hot cocoa, and she smiled gratefully before accepting it.

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip of it, wincing slightly as the hot liquid came in contact with her tongue. "What's up?" she questioned, smiling.

Mark shrugged, leaning on the counter as Addison turned her focus back on the case file. "Not much. Today's an awfully boring day."

Addison nodded, slightly distracted. "Why don't you go home?" she offered.

"I was thinking of that, actually. But I wanted to ask you what you were planning to do tonight first."

She stopped her reading and looked up, trying to ram her brain for anything she was going to do that night. Not thinking of anything, she smiled. "Nothing, really. Go home, catch up on some readings… maybe watch a DVD. It's my first night off this week." She narrowed her eyes and stared at Mark. "Why?"

Mark grinned widely. "How about dinner? And maybe a walk at Central Park?" He cleared his throat, pausing. "My treat."

She smiled softly at the thought. She and Mark, although not exclusive, were trying hard to start a stable relationship. Things have been good recently, smooth even, and Addison was happy she was finding semblance of normalcy and constancy in her life amid suppressed chaos.

"Well?"

"Dinner," she said, closing the file and looking directly at Mark. "Sounds wonderful."

Mark's grin widened more as he noticed Addison's quiet enthusiasm. "Well, that's settled then. I'll pick you up after shift?"

Addison nodded. "I get off at seven. Come by around 7:30, unless you want to go out on a date with someone in scrubs," she winked, grimacing inwardly at the thought of dining in an upscale restaurant in her less than fashionable scrubs.

"A date," he repeated, inching closer to Addison as he felt his heart rate increase at the word. He was happy Addison was giving him a chance. "A date with you, regardless of what you're wearing, will always be a pleasure."

A slight blush crept up on her cheeks as she smiled shyly at him. "Thank you."

"And for the record, Addie, you'll look beautiful, whatever you wear."

She grinned at him as he stalked off, unable to suppress the excitement at the prospect of dinner with a man who cared for her sincerely.

-

A sigh escaped from Derek's lips as he saw Meredith by the corner. She was talking quietly to someone over the phone, but she had noticed him and smiled nervously at him before he could walk away. She raised her hand up to signal for him to wait for her as she ended her call hastily.

"Derek," she greeted, her voice shaky, not that Derek noticed.

"Meredith," he said back coolly, his whole demeanor reflecting his less than enthusiastic thoughts.

She smiled at him nervously. "So…"

"Was there anything you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked snappily, honestly too tired to deal with her. Yes, it's four months since Addison left, but he was still waiting for her, as per the orders of court. Although he knew Meredith didn't deserve the tone he was sporting, he couldn't help the use of it after all that's been happening.

Meredith's eyes widened slightly at his tone before her jaw clenched in frustration. "Look, if you think you're going to drive me off with your attitude, you can think again. I'm not going anywhere." She stared at him with complete resolution in her eyes.

He stood up straighter, determined not to listen to any of the blasphemy, or so he thought, that Meredith was saying. In his opinion, if she every really wanted to be happy, she should start looking for someone else to shower her love on. She wasn't going to get anywhere with him, as far as he can tell, especially if he's still hungover on his wife.

"You think I'm just some love sick girl who follows you around for nothing," she continued. "But you're sorely mistaken. I love you. And maybe I'm going crazy, but just you wait Derek Shepherd. You're going to love me back. And I'm going to prove to you that you can find happiness with _me_. Not with Addison. With me." With that, she walked away, determined to do anything to get him to care.

Derek sighed. He definitely wasn't expecting that. All of a sudden, Meredith changed from the understanding girl who was waiting for him, to someone akin to a stalker, maybe even a crazy and obsessed lover. Yes, that was the word. She was slowly being obsessed with the thought of Derek that it frightened him a bit. Over the course of three short months, she had changed drastically from sweet and caring, to annoying and utterly frustrating. He needed to take a breather from her.

He loved Addison, but he didn't want to hurt Meredith. If any, he wanted to spare her from his indecision by detaching himself from her completely. However, she was persistent, and he could do nothing to deliver her from the pain he was he was going to inflict on her with certainty.

But before he could dwell on Meredith's words any more than he already was, his pager sounded, telling him he was needed somewhere else, and that the mess he called his personal life had to wait.

-

"Are you sure it's going to work?"

"Trust me, it's going to work."

She sighed, trying to convince herself that what the old woman was telling her was true. "What if it backfires?"

The older woman shrugged. "If it does, then at least we tried. Don't go backing out on me now."

"I won't back out," she said firmly. "I just… maybe we should go over the plan again."

"The plan's simple. I give it to you, you give it to him, and then we wait for things to set into action."

The apprehension was evident, as if her consciousness was finally making its voice heard, drowning out the sounds of her desperation. "What if it's fatal?"

The brow raised at her, one that was worn out with years of hard toil and labor, questioned her. "Quite honestly, that's what I want. But there's a reason I asked _you_ to help me, right?"

"You're using me," she stated.

"As you're doing with me," the lady fired back. "Listen, it's a win-win situation—"

"Not really. You're going to win no matter what happens, whether it's fatal or not. But me? I'm taking a risk."

"I thought you were a risk taker by nature." Her voice was provoking, daring her to defy her own strength.

"And I am," she affirmed, her head nodding in confidence. "But there are things we have to be sure of. I mean… I don't want things to end up badly on both ends."

"If anything is going to end up badly, it's their end. Aren't you with me?"

Her expression was one of deep questioning; as if she questioned her own sanity at agreeing to do something this huge. She normally wasn't the type to engage in things such as what she was about to embark on, but she was slowly changing into someone she wasn't. "I am," she said dryly, albeit unconvincingly. "I just hope you're right about things. Just so you know though, I'm not going to save your ass when things backfire."

She nodded. "And I won't save yours either. You deliver the goods, and that's the end of our connivance. I promise."

She exhaled a sigh of momentary relief, trying to convince herself that this was what she wanted. "Okay. Let me know when you want to do it."

"Tonight. I'll drop by. See you." She hung up with a click, leaving the younger woman no time to process the events that were about to unfold for all of them.

-

That evening, Addison and Mark were strolling at Central Park, their fingers entwined and their bodies in close proximity with each other. The stars were high up and they were talking animatedly about something that had happened during supper.

"You were seriously flirting with that waitress."

"I wasn't!" Mark said defensively, his cheeks blushing.

Addison shook her head, loving the way Mark looked whenever he was teased. "Just admit it, Mark. At least you're being honest. Besides, she was hot so I'd take offense if you _didn't_."

"Alright fine, I was flirting… a bit. In my defense though, you haven't given me the 'we're going exclusive' talk yet, so I'm allowed to flirt."

"Of course you are," she said, laughing. "Get out there and do what you do best."

"Screw women?"

She nodded, grinning widely. "Screw anything with a vagina."

Mark laughed heartily, the sound deep and whole, making Addison smile. "But you know… I could be just yours. Say the word and I'll commit," he said honestly, his tone serious.

"I know. And right now, even without _the talk_, you're doing pretty well at being committed. But let's be honest, Mark… it's too soon."

He sighed, squeezing her hand lightly. "I know I said I'll wait forever, but I gotta be honest too. I'm getting a bit impatient," he confessed sheepishly.

Addison giggled, meeting Mark's gaze. "You wouldn't be Mark if you weren't impatient."

"That's right," he agreed, breathing in Addison's scent. "But for the record, even if… even if you never find yourself ready for a relationship with me, I'll accept it… because I love you and I want you to be happy."

She was touched by the sentiment, and at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to forget about Derek and fall in love with Mark. But fate had other plans, and one cannot choose whom one loves. No matter how much she tried to force herself to love Mark, the only name her heart was screaming was Derek's, much to her chagrin. But for the sake of it all, she was trying, and for that, Mark was grateful. "Thank you. That… means a lot coming from you," she whispered sincerely. "I want you to be happy too."

Mark nodded. "But we're happy now, aren't we? At this very moment?" He looked at her like a child, his face awaiting a response with slight fear.

"We are," she confirmed, squeezing his hand. "We are."

He stopped walking and faced her, laying his hands firmly on her shoulders and looking at her intensely and with so much love in his eyes. "And who knows, maybe someday, we'll have more of these moments again," he whispered, the raw honesty and hope in his voice overwhelming.

She gazed at him before she started to close her eyes, feeling Mark's hot breath nearing her. He was going to kiss her, and she could almost feel the love Mark was radiating from his body. Her lips were slightly apart, fully ready to meet his tender ones in a passionate dance of tongue and skin.

But before his lips could make contact with hers, her mobile phone rang loudly, startling both of them as they pulled apart. Mark's face fell, as did Addison's flustered one. Disappointment was evident with both of them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hastily before she dug into her purse in search of her phone. "Hello?" she answered, all the while looking at Mark apologetically.

"Addison?"

The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, close to her heart even. "Chief?" she questioned. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Addison," Richard said, his voice hurried and frantic. "You have to come to Seattle now. There's an emergency."

Her heart started to beat in her chest in a flurry of discordant beating. Her ears started to grow warm, and her breathing deeper. "What emergency?" she asked quickly, hoping against hope it wasn't what she was thinking. "Is it Derek?" She just had to ask, just had to eliminate him from the list of possibilities running through her head.

The chief's answer was something Addison wished she never heard. "It's Derek, Addie," he confirmed, worry etched in his voice. "He's not breathing."

* * *

Okay, there. I think you already get where I'm going with this. Haha. But just the same, let me know what you think. The story's coming to close soon, too. So yeah. :) Thanks for reading, guys! :)


	18. Chapter 17

AN: Okay, like I said, this story's drawing to a close. Maybe 3 more chapters and an epilogue, and then it's a wrap. Hahaha. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys! They all mean a lot! Stay tuned for the next chapter because there are going to be revelations and shizz. :) Thanks so much for reading and enjoy!:)

- I own nothing.

* * *

All color was drained from Addison's face as she rushed into Seattle Grace some 5 hours later, her whole body shaking with anxiety and worry for her husband. She didn't remember exactly how she got to Seattle Tacoma Airport, but she was pretty sure that Mark had hurried her to the airport and booked her a flight because she was too much in a daze to function properly. In retrospect, Mark was gracious enough to have a stewardess ensure that she ended up in the hospital, knowing that him accompanying her wouldn't be the best thing at the moment.

When she got into the hospital, her eyes searched frantically for a familiar face, someone who could help her calm down amid the horrifying news she had just been given. Her eyes scanned and landed on Miranda Bailey, her foot tapping quite impatiently for her arrival. Miranda had spotted her as well and rushed to her, jogging slightly to meet her halfway.

"Addison! Thank god you're here!" she exclaimed, engulfing the woman in a quick hug.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice full of concern, her jumpiness apparent.

Miranda put a hand on Addison's back and led her hastily to the elevator, all the while talking about what she knew of the situation. "We don't know how it happened, but Meredith Grey found him in an on call room when he wasn't answering a page, and he wasn't breathing. He was suffering from pulmonary edema. He was rushed to surgery within minutes."

Addison's eyes widened, fretting. "Do you know how it happened?" she asked, a million questions running through her head.

She shrugged, willing the elevator to move faster. "There were traces of cyanide in his hemoglobin, as per the results of the blood work. We still don't know how it got there, but it's most probably his food. We'll have to ask him when he wakes up," she explained.

"Cyanide? How in the world—"

"We don't know, Addison. And I wish I had more information to give you, but right now, his toxicity levels are high and he was hardly breathing when Grey found her. You have to thank her once Derek is wheeled into recovery. She saved his life."

The redhead gulped, willing her tears not to fall as she thought about the endless possibilities that cyanide poisoning could result to. "Who's working on him now?"

Miranda sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "The chief is in the OR with him now. Grey's assisting."

"And the procedure?" her voice agitated.

"Luckily for Derek, we caught the poisoning early on, so we're not doing anything too drastic just yet."

"Then why has he been in the OR for five hours?" she countered, her mind still trying to comprehend the things that were happening too fast for her liking. One minute she was carefree, the next, she was frantic and awaiting an unknown fate.

She sighed again, heavier this time. "Addison, you're a doctor. You know these things. We're treating him with a variety of drugs, ranging from sodium thiosulfate to dimethylaminophenol. And these sort of procedures take time. I understand that it's different when you're on the other side of the red line dividing the OR and the waiting room, but for your sake and his, you have to pull yourself together." She felt bad at scolding Addison, but she knew it was the only way to get her to think logically at the moment.

Addison closed her eyes to calm herself, pinching the bridge of the noise to impede and oncoming headache. She was slightly put off by Miranda's words, but only because she knew they were true. Breathing deeply, she opened her eyes and met Miranda's curious gaze. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just… god… if anything happens to him, Miranda, I have no idea what I'm going to do," she confessed.

Miranda nodded, placing a comforting hand on her back and rubbing it gently. "It's okay to be worried, but I'm telling you now. We've got it under control, thanks to Meredith. It'll be okay," she said, trying her best to reassure the bewildered woman. "It'll be okay."

She nodded gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered, smiling slightly, trying to put aside the panic and think straight. They stepped out of the elevator and walked briskly to the waiting area, where the chief was already standing, awaiting them.

"Addison," he said, rushing over to his surrogate daughter.

"Richard."

The chief moved to engulf Addison in a warm hug, stroking her back in a fatherly gesture. "He's okay," he said soothingly. "He's fine."

Addison nodded into the chief's shoulder, her tears now falling freely from her eyes. "Where is he?" she whispered, her voice raspy.

"We wheeled him to recovery. You can go see him."

The relief that filled Addison body nearly floored her, her body slumping slightly as she clung to Richard tighter. Her tears intensified, gasping for breath as the gratefulness consumed her. "Oh dear god, thank you. Thank you," she repeated as she tried to impede the inflow of tears. "Thank you." Her resolution to think logically melted away as she reminded herself that Derek was fine, and would be after the incident.

Richard rubbed her back in comfort, whispering soothing words and trying to calm her down. It was but rare that someone as respected and strong as Addison Shepherd would break down before his very eyes. In his mind, it had been long over due. "It's okay, Addie. It's okay. He's okay," he kept on repeating, until her sobs subsided and she pulled away, wiping her eyes angrily to make her look more presentable.

"Richard," she sighed.

"How about we walk you to his room and I'll fill you in?"

Addison nodded gratefully, smiling in relief as the chief put a guiding hand on her back and led her once again to the elevators. "So… cyanide poisoning?" she asked, shaking her thoughts.

The chief nodded gravely, stepping into the elevator. "We found a lethal dose of cyanide in his system, quite possibly from his food. The lab work proved it."

"Miranda told me that. But you know as well as I do that Derek rarely leaves this hospital, and he eats every meal in the cafeteria," she stated, the rational side of her finally prevailing. She could predict that she was going to be an emotional roller coaster for the next couple of days.

"That's right. And that cyanide poisoning happens fast. In a matter of minutes, you could be dead," he supplied.

She tried to shake away the negative thoughts, clearing her mind for something more pleasant. "Chief… if it's cafeteria food then other people at this hospital must be affected by it."

"Right again," Richard said, clearly impressed even though he knew of Addison's extensive intelligence. "But no one else seems to be affected. We had the cafeteria food checked at the lab, and none of it, not water or the food itself, have traces of cyanide. Not even the cleaning materials and the things used to cook."

Addison sighed, shaking her head. "Then how is it possible? I mean, he must have gotten it here at the hospital. I doubt he's left this place since I left." She wasn't flattering herself. In fact, it was more of knowing Derek so much that she knew he would've buried himself at work these past months.

The chief stared at Addison hardly, his expression grim. Clearing his throat, he turned and said, "Addie… we're thinking it's an attempted homicide."

-

Detective Sanders sighed, unable to believe that he was thrown back into the Montgomery-Shepherd whirlwind drama so soon after the last incident. This time, however, it was for an attempted homicide that was thankfully caught on early in order to prevent serious consequences.

He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair as his team of forensic experts scoured Derek Shepherd's office in an attempt to find a link to the poisoning. "Check his drawers, check the table. Check the trash bin. We could find what we're looking for there," he instructed. He wanted the team to check every nook and cranny, every corner, and every possible place that cyanide, or any poison for that matter, could be lurking.

His men went through the room, opening each and every drawer, letter, container and the likes in order to find anything with cyanide. In the meantime, the detective walked to the trash can and slipped on a pair of latex gloves, squatting and going through its contents. His hands went through the trash, his face contorting slightly at whatever it was he was doing.

Crumpled paper.

Crumpled paper.

Candy wrapper.

Banana peel.

Crumbled paper.

Coffee cup.

_Bingo_.

He gingerly reached for the coffee cup and noticed that it was half full, and seemed to have been not a day old. He motioned for the forensic team to bag it up and send it to the lab for fingerprinting and testing. It was a long shot, but the coffee cup could tell them what he had consumed prior to the poisoning, and could lead them one step closer to finding much needed answers.

-

"What happened?"

"He's in recovery."

"What?" her voice was surprised, the shock radiating from across the phone lines. "You have to be kidding me! It was fool proof! Cyanide poisoning is quick and painless."

She shrugged. "It was bunged," she said nonchalantly.

"By who?" she asked forcefully, her mind whirling with countless more plans to destroy him. "I'll kill that wretched--"

"By an intern," she answered mysteriously. "I don't think you're going to succeed at anything. Why don't you just give it up?"

Her jaw clenched. "I can't give it up. I won't. This is something I was determined to do in the first place, and I'll finish it, if it's the last thing I do."

She sighed. "You have to give it up. His wife's here. You're never going to succeed."

Her attention perked up at the mention of his wife. "The other Shepherd is there?" That would be interesting. Although it would crop up her plans, it would definitely make things more enjoyable for her.

"Arrived here this evening," she stated. "Look, just stop whatever it is and accept it. You're not going win."

"I'm going to win, darling. And funny how you mentioned the wife being there. It's not as if she can do anything to save him."

"Oh, she can. She can rip a twig in two, if you know what I mean," shuddering slightly at the implications of what she had just said.

"But I thought you were with me?"

"Until tonight and I realized some things," she said curtly. "Now, if you don't abandon your post, I may very well report you to the police. They're all over the hospital now, and they know what they're looking for."

"You wouldn't do that," she sneered. "Because if you do, I'm taking you down with me. You conspired with me, so that makes two of us."

-

Addison sat by Derek's bedside, stroking his hair and muttering soft encouragements in the dark. When Richard had told her of the possibility of homicide, everything started to spin and she lost her hearing as she thought about how it could be her fault. Someone close to Peter Jones could be doing this, and she would once again be powerless to stop it.

The knock on the door startled her from her deep thoughts, her head turning to the doorway to see Meredith Grey standing unsurely. Addison smiled softly. "Come in," she whispered.

Meredith nodded, walking in slowly and closing the door behind her. "How is he?"

Addison shrugged. "He hasn't woken up yet, but I'm confident he will soon."

"Do you know what happened?" she squeaked.

She shook her head. "They say it's a potential homicide. But I'm hoping it isn't. I'm still praying it's just some freak accident that happened." She paused, turning to look at Meredith straight in the eye. She couldn't hide the sadness in her features.

"I wanted to thank you, Meredith," she said softly, her face grateful. "If you… if you hadn't checked up on him like you did… he could've died. So just… thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for saving his life." She breathed deeply, somehow not believed she was thanking her husband's mistress this way.

Meredith turned her gaze away, unable to meet Addison's intense stare. The redhead was thanking her for saving her husband's life, and yet she couldn't, in good conscience, accept it. She was the woman who'd been pining for Derek Shepherd these past months, and guilt consumed her little by little as Derek's wife thanked her. "I…"

"I'll give you anything you want, Meredith," Addison whispered. "I owe you my life for saving him," she said, unconsciously reaching for Derek's hand and squeezing it. "It feels so surreal to have him confined for the second time in 3 months, but dear god, you saved him and I can't be any more grateful."

The blonde woman sighed, taking a seat and meeting Addison's curious gaze. "All… All I ask is for you to not let him go anymore," she whispered, her voice shaky and her eyes welling with tears. "Don't leave his side at all," she said, not knowing if she meant it literally of figuratively. "If it's… if it's attempted murder then don't leave him. Don't let him be alone with anyone, unless you're present."

Addison's look was curious, questioning, and somewhat frightened. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat at the subtle warning.

"They could come back," she whispered. "They could come back, but you have to be there to protect him, like he protected you."

"Meredith…"

"Just promise me!" she snapped, her breathing shallow. "Promise me and that's thanks enough. Okay?"

Addison sighed, running her fingers through her messy hair. "I know you love him," she said quietly. "But this… all of this means a lot coming from you. So thank you. You have no idea how grateful I am to you." She paused. "I promise I won't leave his side."

Meredith nodded and wordlessly stood up, taking one last glance at Derek's sleeping figure and walking out the door quietly.

Addison's eyes followed her until she left the room, her mind somehow not comprehending what had happened.

Only hours ago, she was at New York perfectly content with Mark. She had just confessed to him that she was happy, and that she was trying to move on with him. But just when she found an ounce of constancy, of normalcy, the floorboards beneath once again started to shift, throwing her into unknown territory in a snap of a finger.

When Richard had called her, she felt as if the world came tumbling down on her, and a primal desire to care for him swept her off her feet in a flurry or worry and love. She didn't think she felt so much love for Derek come out of her before as when that moment came, and the prospect of losing him for good slapped her right in the face.

All of a sudden, she was unsure again, and the divorce that loomed ahead seemed to disgust her. That, and Meredith's advice, gave her a new sense of purpose; one that proved to her that she loved him too much to let go.

It all came down to that; the fact that she loved him more than life itself, and that she was willing to give up her own life, if only he would be safe. The realization that she didn't want a divorce anymore sent her spiraling out of control, and the tears that she had wanted to shed now fell freely, her own proud tear ducts finally bowing down, allowing her the much needed comfort.

She loved him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

* * *

Like I said, I think you know where this is going. Hahaha. But stay tuned for the next chapters because revelations are going to happen. :D Thanks so much for reading, guys!


	19. Chapter 18

AN: Hello! This is prolly one of the longest I've written in a while. Hahaha. But yea. Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I'm starting to wonder how in the world I've kept up that much readers for this story. It feels weird, but in a nice way. Hahaha. Here's the next chapter and I hope you like it.

-I own nothing.

* * *

"Derek, some people are here to ask you some questions. Is that okay?"

He looked at Addison and nodded, sitting up straight as she opened the door for the detective, Richard, and a couple of police officers to enter the room. He motioned for Addison to come sit by him right after she let them in. She obliged.

"Derek, Addie," Richard greeted, standing in the middle of the room and facing Derek. He was less than thrilled to be in a situation like that again, but he was glad things weren't going downhill exactly. "I assume you know Detective Sanders," he gestured.

Addison and Derek nodded, both of them still reeling from the events of the day. Addison followed Meredith's advice to the book, never once leaving Derek's side for more than 3 minutes at a time.

The detective stepped forward, smiling wryly at the couple. "Looks like you're in demand again," he said humorlessly. "I don't suppose you know who did this?"

Derek sighed, shaking his head. "I have a couple of people in mind, but it seems farfetched."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Only patients, or patients' families. But it's highly unlikely. I haven't been in contact with any of them these past days."

"And you, Dr. Montgomery?" he asked, turning to Addison.

_Shepherd_, she wanted to say, but let it pass anyway. "I think this still has something to do with Peter Jones," she stated dryly. "I don't know. I might be laying blame on the wrong people, but I think it's a possibility. I mean, Peter Jones was a clever man. He could've commissioned someone else to do this."

The detective nodded, gesturing for the police officer to bring out a brown paper bag and reveal its contents. The police officer did as he was told and showed the couple the contents. It was the coffee cup he took from the trashcan the day before. "We found this in your office, Dr. Shepherd."

Derek look puzzled. "You went through my trash?" he asked, slightly grossed out by the thought.

Shrugging, he answered, "Your trash held valuable information, doctor. We traced the cyanide to the coffee contents of this cup."

In but a moment, the information registered in Derek's brain and his jaw fell, his hand starting to sweat. It couldn't be. "I don't understand, that's impossible," he said indignantly. "That's impossible," he repeated.

Detective Sanders narrowed his gaze, pursing his lips in thought. "Where did you get your coffee yesterday, Dr. Shepherd?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. He knew he had gotten an effective lead.

He shook his head, still not believing what his brain was shouting at him. He refused to heed the proddings of his reason, choosing instead to live on denial for but a moment longer.

"Derek, honey…" Addison whispered, taking Derek's hand in his. She was nervous, too, and all she wanted was to find answers. "Why don't you tell us where you got it?"

"Son, you have to tell us," Richard prodded, sensing Derek's apparent apprehension about speaking. "We have to get to the bottom of this."

"It's not true," Derek whispered. "It's not true."

"What isn't true? Derek, please." Addison pleaded quietly, willing Derek to speak for the sake of everyone's sanity.

His eyes closed in anguish, shaking his head still and fighting off the most unwelcome thoughts he had come up with. Although he knew she had been out of line these past months, part of him always held a special place for her, and refused to believe what his logical thinking was pointing to. He couldn't comprehend how she could have done the worst thing imaginable.

"Derek."

"Dr. Shepherd?"

His opened his eyes and met Addison's gaze, her eyes full of pain as she realized what was happening. She had known Derek for almost 20 years. She knew every thought, every look, every smile, and every move. She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt what thoughts plagued his mind right at that very moment. Her eyes flashed with a mix worry, anger, hatred, despair and shock.

Derek nodded, seeming to sense the disbelief that was written all over Addison's face. Addison in turn shook her head, her whole body unwilling to acquiesce to the facts that were staring at her straight in the eyes. Her jaw clenched in apparent defiance.

"She gave me the coffee," he whispered hoarsely, his voice nothing above a whisper. His eyes were haunted as he stared expectantly at Addison.

"No," she replied shakily as her eyes started to water. "She saved you," she insisted. "She saved you."

"Addie…"

"Maybe she was framed. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she—"

"Addie," he said again, more forcefully this time, and with more anguish filling his already downtrodden voice. "It's no use denying it," himself still trying to comprehend what was happening.

The detective cleared his throat, breaking the silent tension between husband and wife as he looked from Addison to Derek, his expression questioning. "May I inquire as to who you're referring to?"

Neither Shepherd wanted to answer. They simply stared at each other in silent communication, Derek reaching for Addison's hand in an attempt to comfort her. He could see right through her, and he knew she felt stupid, hurt and betrayed.

"Addie? Derek?" the chief asked again, wanting to demand them to speak up but not finding the heart to. "You have to tell us."

Addison took a deep breath, her shocked face falling just as suddenly as it came, being replaced by a look of sheer determination and anger. Her eyes blazed with the fires of hell, wanting nothing more than to live out to the name Satan and show her hateful wrath to the twig her husband had fallen for. She turned her head to meet Richard's questioning gaze, her voice more confident than she expected it to sound. "It was Meredith," she said simply, her voice hard as she tried to remain as calm as possible.

"Who?" the detective asked, jotting down notes on his small notepad.

"Excuse me?" Richard said, his voice booming in doubt. "What did you just say?" He couldn't believe he heard her correctly.

"It's Meredith," Addison said again. "Meredith gave Derek the coffee yesterday."

"Are you sure?" he asked forcefully, Addison's previous shock having been transferred to him. "Addison, Derek, this is a big thing that you're doing. You're laying blame on Meredith Grey for an attempted suicide. This better not be a joke," he said sternly. "Because if it is, it isn't funny!"

"Do I look like I would joke about something like this?" Addison snapped, her patience with the whole situation wearing thin. "Do I look like I want to be blaming my husband's mistress for trying to kill him? Maybe I did, once, long before. But my god, Richard, you fucking know me better than that!"

Richard huffed, Addison's outburst frustrating him further. He turned his attention to Derek. "Derek?"

Derek sighed, leveling Richard's stern gaze. "Would I lie to you, Richard? As much as I want to believe it isn't true, the facts are clear in my head. Meredith gave me the coffee yesterday about an hour before I went into the on call room to rest."

"Can you prove that?"

He shrugged, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I don't know how I can give you more concrete evidence than my word, Richard," he said, slightly offended that the chief seemed to have so little faith in him. Of course he understood that it was a big thing to process, but he could have handled it less tactlessly.

"Actually," the detective interrupted, raising his hand up. "We can prove that."

All heads turned to him, urging him to continue. The chief looked at him questioningly.

"Well, chief, you have surveillance cameras around the hospital, am I right?"

The chief nodded, needing to take a seat as the detective continued.

"Dr. Shepherd, where did Meredith Grey give you the—"

"At the nurses' station," he answered curtly, cutting the detective's statement.

The detective nodded, satisfied. "It appears that Meredith Grey is a controversial suspect. We can rule her out of this whole equation, for everyone's peace of mind. If she's willing, we could take her in for questioning."

"You want to question Meredith Grey?"

"Take her fingerprints and try to match it with the ones we lifted from the cup. Then we take a look at the surveillance videos to validate Dr. Shepherd's statement. And then we take her in for questioning. It's a long shot, but Dr. Shepherd seems to be convinced it's her. Meredith Grey is our primary suspect."

-

"_Derek."_

"_Meredith."_

_She stood awkwardly in front of him, her body clearly not exhibiting the least bit of confidence as she shyly handed him a cup of steaming coffee. He took it hesitantly, his face curious._

"_What's this for?" _

"_I…" she started, her feet shifting from side to side as she spoke. "I wanted to… apologize."_

_He raised a brow, leaning slightly on the counter and taking a sip of the coffee. He failed to notice how her eyes widened and jaw fell as he took a sip of the steaming liquid. "For what?" _

_She stood straighter, masking her nervousness with an endearing smile, one he knew he liked. "I haven't been myself lately," she confessed, her voice quivering slightly. "And… it came at the expense of your mood and sanity and... so… yeah. I wanted to apologize." _

_Derek smiled softly. It wasn't his McDreamy smile, nor one that would make any woman swoon. It was a genuine and sincere smile that made Meredith's heart beat a little faster, with what she didn't know. "Apology accepted," he said quietly._

"_I just wanted to say that I'm done," she said firmly. "I'm done chasing you. I'm done… waiting. I'm going to move on now, and so should you and, I mean… if Addison wants to be with you again then that's great but really… you deserve to find someone to spend the rest of your life with because… well… you're you and you don't seem like the man to die—I mean live, live, alone. You know. I mean, you should call her, tell her how you feel and—"_

"_Mer—"_

"_And make sure that you do your best to fight for her because you deserve someone like her. She's perfect. Well, practically perfect. She's really far from Satan. And no matter how much she pushes you away, I think you already know that she loves you back and that she thinks she's doing the right thing by avoiding you but really, she's just making things worse and—"_

"_Mer!" he said forcefully, asserting himself amid her babbling. "You're rambling," he pointed out, smiling amusedly at her. "You don't have to be nervous."_

_The blush that had crept on her cheek instantly disappeared, her eyes shooting up defensively at him. "I'm not nervous," she insisted. "I'm not nervous. I mean, people only get nervous when they're about to do something wrong… or right. Or right—"_

"_You're doing it again," he laughed, pushing himself from where he was leaning. "You're not nervous," he winked. "And yes, I think I'm going to call Addison. Later, when I get the chance." _

_Meredith nodded. "Right. You should call her."_

"_I will," he confirmed. "But listen… thank you… for the apology. And the coffee," he grinned. "It… means a lot coming from you. Just, thank you. I'm sure you'll find someone who'll love you the way you deserve to be loved," he said sincerely. _

"_Yeah," she said quickly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thank you."_

_He nodded, taking another sip of the coffee before walking away, clearly unaware of the dangers that lurked as he happily enjoyed his expresso. _

-

Addison paced Derek's room as his eyes followed her every move. She couldn't believe it. She had no time to process her emotions at all, from Mark, to Derek, to the revelation about Meredith. She had no idea where she was standing, and what she was supposed to be doing at a situation such as the one she was just presented with.

She thought about calling her mother, but she knew better than to invade the space she so desperately needed after her father. She thought about going to her father, but that thought was quickly scratched out as quickly as it came. There was no father to run to this time. There was only her, and two men who were currently promising her the world. One of them hurt her, one of them promised not to. It shouldn't have been a difficult choice, but she was confused just the same.

Although she had no doubt that the idea of losing Derek forever scared the crap out of her, she couldn't quite fathom how she would make their relationship work. A marriage was supposed to take hard work, yes. But it wasn't supposed to drain out all her strength. The bad times should have been outweighed by the good ones, and that clearly wasn't the case anymore in her marriage.

But she loved him, with all her heart. And she was back to square one.

And then there was Mark, who promised to give her things far better than what Derek had offered. He was the ever-supportive, ever-present Mark who loved her unconditionally and would never hurt her the way Derek did. He had sworn to take care of her, and be the man she desperately needed, forever.

But she wasn't in love with him, at least not the way she thought she was. And so she was back to square one again.

"You'll run a hole on the floor if you keep pacing," Derek warned from the bed, knowing Addison's thoughts as if they were his own.

Addison glared at him and continued pacing, trying to sort out the mess that was her life.

To top everything off, the idea of even trusting Meredith, of thanking her for saving her husband's life, repulsed her. She wanted to vomit at the very thought of it, knowing she was the reason things started to spiral out of control in her life once again. Meredith Grey had betrayed the trust she had blindly bestowed on her. She couldn't, for the life of her, believe that she wanted Derek, the love of her life, to try to work out a relationship with the woman who put his life in danger.

It frustrated her to no end, considering how she had truly believed Derek loved Meredith, and Meredith, Derek. How could she have been so stupid?

"You're not stupid," Derek said from the bed, smirking as Addison looked at him, her eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

"You forget that I've been married to you for eleven years. I know what you're thinking. And you're not stupid," he said firmly.

Addison sighed, running a hand through her red locks. "It certainly doesn't seem that way," she said bitterly.

Derek's expression softened, knowing full well that Addison's inner turmoil was eating her, nibbling away at the semblance of sanity she was currently holding on to. He knew for a fact that whatever Addison was going through was because of him. And for that, he felt immensely guilty.

"Addie? Why don't you come sit by me," he invited, gesturing for her to take a seat beside him. He wanted, no, needed her close to her. He needed to comfort her, so that in a way, he was comforting himself, too.

She looked at him skeptically before relenting, nodding reluctantly. If she weren't so emotionally unstable, she would have scoffed off the idea. But she knew that since she got to Seattle, she had been an emotional roller coaster, and she had been the most indecisive bitch on the planet. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing Derek to wrap his arms around her as her back leaned on his chest.

"Derek…"

"It doesn't have to be this way, Addie," he whispered, taking Addison's hands. "Things don't have to be this confusing."

"I know they don't," she said just as softly. "But they are and I just… don't know how to make things work out."

"You can trust me again," he said simply. "You know we can work through anything."

Addison sighed. "Derek, as much as I love you and as much as I feel deeply about everything that's been happening with Meredith, I can't allow myself to trust you blindly. God knows that happened with that 12 year old, and look where that got us," she said, her tone tired and weary.

He nodded, understanding her. "You know what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"That you want nothing more than to march over to Meredith, scratch her eyes out and make her pay. You want to clear this mess once and for all tonight. But you're here, with me, because you love me and I matter more to you than finding revenge. You're here, against your better judgement, because you can't bear the thought of leaving me alone and having someone try to kill me again." It wasn't flattery, or conceit that led him to say those words. Like Addison did the day previous, he knew her from inside out, that even her pain was his, no matter how far apart they were.

Addison raised a brow and looked at him skeptically. "You're full of yourself, aren't you?" she questioned, but knew he had a point. He had once again captured the very essence of the things she could not even find order for.

"But it's true, right?" he pushed, looking at Addison knowingly.

She sighed, nodding, much to her chagrin. "It is," she confirmed. "But all of this… all of the things that have been happening… they make me wonder, you know? They make me question things I've always believed to be true and it's just… confusing."

"Like what?"

"Well… I wonder what Meredith's motif is," she said. "I wonder why she wanted to kill you when she said she loved you. I wonder if it has anything to do with karma, with Peter Jones, with dad. I wonder if this is happening because I love you too much, or too little. Or if you love me too much, or too little." She sighed, the frustration evident in her voice. "I wonder a lot of things," she admitted.

Derek nodded understandingly, kissing the top of her head gently. "It'll get clearer though. You know why? Because I love you."

"I know you do," she said. "I love you too," she whispered sincerely.

He nodded again, knowing that deep in his heart he knew that to be true. "We'll get through this, Addie. I promise."

"Promise?" she asked, her voice small and somewhat vulnerable. She was like a child now, her defenses slowly breaking down as she gingerly allowed herself to be _human_.

"I promise," he answered firmly, his heart swelling with all the love he felt for her.

* * *

There. That chapter's done. Should I be ducking for cover? I hate that I can't be any more Meredith friendly. I really am working on it, I swear. But... idk... I swear it'll get better with her. I'll be really nice to her character soon! That's a promise. Hahaha. Anyway, thank you so much for reading!


	20. Chapter 19

AN: Okay. That last update was pretty controversial. :)) But here's the next chapter to clear things up. Haha. Sorry to disappoint some of you though. :) Just the same, enjoy and thank you for reading! Your reviews mean a lot! :)

-I own nothing.

* * *

_"Here," she said, shoving the cyanide salt into the server's hand, all the while trying to fight off the cold. "Put that into his coffee or water or whatever. I don't care how much you put. It's lethal in any dose."_

_The server raised her eyes skeptically. "So I should be preparing his coffee, right?"_

_She nodded, her face showing the sheer determination of a revengeful widow. "I don't care how you do it. Just make sure he gets it." _

-

Meredith sat directly in front of the detective, her heart beating as she realized she was the prime suspect for Derek's attempted murder. She had no idea what to make of the situation. She was being accused of trying to kill the man she loved sincerely, despite her best efforts to detach herself from him. Her leg shook; her palms sweat in complete nervousness. In a situation like this, there was no telling how things were going to unfold.

"Dr. Grey," the detective said, clearing his throat and taking a seat from his pacing. "I assume you know why you're here?"

She nodded, her eyes betraying her inner emotions. "You think I tried to kill Derek," she said simply, her voice more confident than she actually felt. Up until that point, she decided she had to stay calm and collected, if only to have them believe she was innocent.

The detective sighed, shaking his head. "Unless, of course, you'd like to tell us your side of the story." Getting her alibi was one important step in order to solve the puzzle.

Meredith cast her eyes downward, not knowing how to take herself out of the equation. There was very strong evidence against her, and it would take all her convincing power to get them to believe her story. "I didn't do it."

"Care to explain?" he asked, gesturing to the coffee cup on the table, as if to prove a point. "The evidence speaks a lot, Dr. Grey. But if you'd like to tell us how the cyanide got there, we'd be here for less than we expected."

Sighing, she ran a hand through her blonde hair and stared defiantly at the man. "I have no idea how the cyanide got there. I bought the coffee, I gave it to him without so much as downtime. End of story," she said indignantly.

"Where did you buy the coffee?"

"From the cafeteria," she answered simply, snappily even.

The detective narrowed his gaze. "Can you tell me how much time it took for you to buy and bring the coffee?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded. "About 5 minutes, give or take."

Sanders sighed, nodding before scribbling notes down on his pad. "Alright, Dr. Grey. We'll be in touch with you."

Meredith stood up without so much as a goodbye, wondering how in the world she found herself in the mess she was in. She wondered how she would be able to prove her innocence, especially if she was the means by which Derek had almost died, and that all the evidence they had found pointed directly to her. She acted as the messenger, the delivery boy of some sort. She laughed wryly to herself. She was the delivery boy of doom.

Running a hand through her hair, she forced herself to think clearly. She knew that acting nervous would only make them more suspicious. But she was determined to prove to them she had nothing to do with it all.

-

Addison sat beside Derek, their eyes locked as they conversed about the mess they called their lives. They were, by no means, fixed. Plus the blow to Derek's life seemed to put everything in perspective, but out of it at the same time. It was so confusing that they decided they had to sort out their problems soon. It was the first time they were discussing everything without screaming, with only their reason to aid them. And it felt surreal to be reliving things without so much as a raised voice or a tear shed.

She sighed, allowing her head to rest on her palm as she gazed honestly at Derek. "I don't believe Meredith did it," she said quietly. "I mean… maybe I do, in a way, since everything is telling me she did. But… I don't know. She doesn't strike me as someone to do such a thing."

Derek nodded, fully understanding how Addison was feeling. He didn't know if Meredith ever had the capacity or the heart to do such a thing. And it was eating him to wonder how on earth things became this screwed up. "I know…. Maybe she was framed?" But the thought seemed implausible, especially because the coffee cup spoke clearly for itself.

"It's possible."

"Peter Jones is a clever man."

"Was," she corrected. "He was a clever man. He's dead," Addison said dryly. "And that doesn't really leave us with a lot of things, unless he's haunting us from his grave," she stated even-toned.

"So if Meredith didn't do it… then who did?" Back to square one, for now.

Addison sighed heavily, frowning as she thought of the other possibilities the situation beheld. "Did you piss off anyone at the cafeteria?" she asked, half-joking. "I don't know. Maybe you slept with one of them and she was so obsessed with you that when Meredith bought the coffee, she tried to poison her?" Her voice was teasing, but serious just the same. "I don't know... kill Meredith because she... or he... wanted to be with you?" She laughed lightly, knowing that in Derek's hey-day, he had been a magnet for girls and boys alike.

Derek chuckled. "No. I would have you know that since you left, I have slept with no one else. Not even Meredith."

She raised a perfectly arched brow at him and grinned. "Maybe one of them's related to Peter," she said without so much as a thought. It was a random thought, one that wasn't supposed to mean or imply anything. But it did, to Derek at least.

His eyes widened at the possibility, dazzling with restrained realization. "Addie…" It could be, right?

"But then of course," she continued on, "that's pretty impossible since Peter lives in Connecticut. But… I don't know. It's weird don't you think that---"

"Addie."

She turned her head in confusion as Derek said her name yet again. "Yeah?"

"It's not farfetched," he said firmly, assertively. "It's a possibility. Don't you remember that Peter Jones' father owns land out here?"

Her brow furrowed. "What?" She didn't believe she heard that piece of information before.

He shook his head. "Your mother told me about it before the funeral. The house we were kept in? That was apparently owned by Peter Jones' dad. He was a real estate guru of some sort back in the day. It's not impossible that there are connections here in Seattle," he said quickly, his thoughts racing with his power of speech.

"But… who?" she asked, the wheels in her head turning. It was starting to make sense. She and Derek were figuring out some sort of lead that could help them get to the bottom of it all. "Who, Der?" she said forcefully.

He sighed, shrugging. "That, I don't know," he said, slightly defeated, but regained his determination hastily. "But it would serve us well if we could have the detective research these things for us. After all, the police station surely has records of everyone in Washington State."

Addison nodded, standing up from where she was seated and hurrying to her phone. It was a lead they couldn't wait to start on, and if anything, it was something they were thankful for because it would rule Meredith out of the equation. "I'll call him now."

-

The detective watched closely as the surveillance videos painted him a very clear picture. The video from the cafeteria showed Meredith buying a cup of coffee at 3:26 in the afternoon. At 3:35, she was entering the elevator, the steaming cup in one hand, a pen in the other. There was no way that the hand that was fiddling with a retractable pen could multi-task and get cyanide into the coffe unnoticed.

He swiveled his chair and stared at the surveillance video from the elevator, showing Meredith standing erect in the metal box, seemingly talking to herself. It was quite obvious that she was nervous, as if trying to give herself some pep talk for something important but frightening just the same. There was nothing suspicious about her activity, and in the two minute ride up, she, not once, opened the coffee cup or fiddled into her pocket for something. She was just the ordinary, lanky girl trying to sum up courage to face her fears and anxieties.

Meredith Grey was innocent.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his phone ringing, not allowing him the time to dwell on the realization. He had no time to conclude if the realization was a disappointment, or a triumph. He hurried to the phone and picked it up, his mood undetermined.

"Detective Sanders," he said gruffly.

"Detective! This is Addison Shepherd," she said hurriedly, her voice beaming with excitement at the prospect of helping.

"Dr. Shepherd," he greeted. "What can I do for you today?"

"I don't think Meredith Grey did it," she answered hastily, and the detective could almost imagine here pacing the room in the most jumpy of manners. She didn't waste any time, only went straight to the point.

The detective nodded, amazed that their realizations were at sync. "That's because she didn't," he stated, fighting to keep the excitement from his voice. "We've proven it… sort of."

Addison's eyes widened, clutching the phone tighter. "I knew it!" she exclaimed, her voice triumphant. "But how—"

"The power of technology," he answered even without hearing the question. "The surveillance cameras painted us a very vivd picture."

She nodded, relief filling her body. She never thought she'd find this much comfort at Meredith Grey's innocence. But although she was relieved, something bigger was nagging at her brain, one that made her feel guilty for blaming Meredith in the first place. "I… think I know how you can find a better lead," she said into the phone, her pacing continuous.

"Oh?" he asked, pulling his notepad and preparing to jot down Addison's words. "How about I go first?"

"Okay."

"Well, if no poisoning happened between the buying and the delivering of the coffee, it's more than likely that the drugging happened at the kitchen itself. Or at least the place where the coffee was prepared."

Addison nodded, grinning as the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fit together. "I know this is going to sound pretty off, but Peter Jones has relatives… or might have relatives here in Seattle."

"How so?"

"Remember the land?"

Realization dawned on him like a ton of bricks hitting his gut as his heart grew more excited to get to the bottom of this case. "Dear god…. You're right. Absolutey right! Your point is--"

"So maybe—"

"There's a possibility that one of them set out to finish the job," he concluded, exhaling at the way this came became so complicated. He slouched slightly and wrote down the odds of it. He and Addison Shepherd were finishing each other's sentences because of all the excitement and anticipation.

"That's right. So you could… I don't know… see if there really are relatives out here? And if one them might happen to work at Seattle Grace?"

He nodded, standing up and pressing the phone closer to his ear, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll get to it right away," he said and hung up, walking briskly to the station's records to get the bottom of it once and for all.

-

_Meredith waited patiently in line, hoping to prolong the talk she was about to have with Derek. It wasn't that she was going to chicke out. No. She couldn't anymore. The talk was seriously needed._

_When her turn came, she stepped forward and smiled slightly at the cashier, burying her hands in her lab coat and fiddled with the pen inside one of the pockets._

_"Hi Dr. Grey! What'll it be today?" the cashier greeted, smiling at her warmly._

_She furrowed her brow, realizing she had no idea what Derek's taste at coffee was. Wrinkling her nose, she answered, "I don't know, Lucy…"_

_The cashier laughed heartily. "We don't really have a lot of choices today," she laughed. "We're a cafeteria, not Starbucks."_

_Meredith smiled. "I mean… I'm ordering for Dr. Shepherd and—"_

_"McDreamy?" she asked, nodding in realization. _

_"Yeah," she stammered. "And I have no idea what kind of coffee he drinks so…" She smiled nervously at the cashier, hoping she could help her out._

_"Black," the girl answered. "He only drinks black." Derek Shepherd always ordered black coffee without so much as a teaspoon of sugar to help him stay awake all day._

_Meredith exhaled in relief. "Black it is then," she said, grinning._

_"All right. One black coffee for you… or McDreamy. Whatever," she babbled, taking Meredith's money and giving her the change back. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll bring it over?"_

_She shook her head. "That's fine. I'll wait."_

_The cashier nodded and went around back, smiling at the thin girl leaning against the metal counters, waiting for work to be done. "Black coffee for McDreamy," she said, gushing. Derek's charm, apparently, reached even the cafeteria staff._

_The girl nodded and smiled widely, seizing the opportunity to attack._

-

"Addie?"

She looked up from her thinking at Derek's questioning gaze. "Yeah?" she whispered, smiling softly.

He shifted in bed and patted the empty space for her, gesturing for her to come over. She sighed but stood up from the couch, removing her shoes and laying down next to him, allowing Derek to cuddle her. "You okay?"

She shook her head. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I feel guilty."

"For what?" he asked, taking the hair out of her face in a gentle sweep.

"Blaming her… questioning my trust…."

He nodded, feeling the exact same way. "I do, too," he said quietly.

"We should apologize, don't you think?"

"We should," he agreed, stroking her red locks. "I'm sorry I gave you the impression that it was her."

"It's an easy assumption to make, I think. I mean… she gave you the coffee. It wouldn't have occurred to you that anyone at the cafeteria could have tried to kill you."

"But still… it was wrong of me to assume so quickly," he insisted, unable to think of anything to justify his actions.

"We're making up for it now," she answered tiredly. "The guilt is eating us."

"So we'll talk to her. Soon. Once everything's been sorted out," he resolved, as if apologizing would make things better for them all.

"Okay," Addison sighed, her hands clammy with anxiousness.

"Okay?"

"Okay, we'll talk to her."

Derek looked at her skeptically before sighing, knowing full well how stubborn Addison was. He could read her so well that he knew exactly what she needed. "You want to talk to her tonight, don't you?"

Addison nodded wordlessly, struggling with her thoughts. She may have been known as Satan, and she may have used that to her advantage sometimes, but her heart wasn't made of stone and she was capable of feeling guilty.

Derek kissed her head, rubbing her back as he did so. "Then go. I would come with you but—"

"Would it really do me any good?" she asked quickly, interrupting him. "I mean... tonight? Doing it tonight?"

"I believe it would, if only to help you get a good night's sleep," he answered. "Go. Talk to her and apologize. I will too, but it's clearly bothering you so much more than it is me."

She nodded again and stood up, fixing the creases on her top and bending over to kiss Derek on the forehead. "I'll be back in a while." Following Derek's advice was what she had been dying to do since the realization.

Without waiting for a response, she walked to the door and left, allowing herself to wallow in misery as she sought out the person she had so many conflicting emotions for. She wandered through the hospital without a clear thought before she found her sitting alone in the intern locker room, deep in thought.

Cautiously, she walked in, clearing her throat so as not to startle the blonde. Meredith looked up, startled to see Addison looking like a mess and standing behind her.

"Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd?" she squeaked, not bothering to stand up.

"I… stand corrected. And… I apologize," Addison whispered, a pained expression gracing her features. She didn't know if Meredith understood what she meant just yet.

Meredith gave her a confused look, urging her to continue. She had no idea what Addison was talking about.

Addison sighed, walking deeper into the locker room and standing a few feet from Meredith whilst digging her hands into her pockets. "I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"Derek and I… we…" she swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat. It wasn't beyond her to apologize, but she felt horrible for having to do it in the first place. If only she allowed herself to look at the facts before believing what she thought was true. "I thought you had tried to kill Derek," she said in a quiet hurry, unable to meet Meredith's gaze. "And... I didn't validate the information and I jumped to the wrong conclusion and I... thought you wanted to kill him."

Her eyes widened, nodding slowly, understanding. She felt her heart beat a little faster at the intense moment she was sharing with Addison Shepherd. "A lot of people seem to think so," she whispered.

Addison nodded understandingly, feeling a rush of pain course through her at the quiet defeat in Meredith's voice. "I'm sorry I did."

"It's not hard to believe," Meredith offered. "I mean… I honestly don't know how the poison got into the coffee but… I acted as the means by which the coffee reached Derek and I guess… it's my fault too."

She shook her head defiantly, taking a seat next to Meredith. "It's not your fault. And I feel horrible for even thinking that it was. I mean… I don't know how I came from logical to simply pathetic that I actually believed you tried to kill my husband."

Meredith could only nod, trying to find some sense of comfort in Addison's sincere words.

"I know you love him. I would be blind if I didn't know that. And I know you would've taken good care of him. I should have believed my gut instinct instead of believing what the facts pointed to. I trust you Meredith, and I'm sorry I questioned that trust. You love him and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you would never do anything to purposely hurt him."

"It was all too easy to believe. I mean, I've been acting weird these couple of days. I wasn't myself. I think I started to believe it myself," she said honestly, meeting Addison's concerned gaze.

Addison gingerly reached for Meredith's hand, squeezing it lightly. It was an unlikely scene to have her do that, but the immense remorse she felt allowed her to overcome the barriers she had put up. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, the pain evident in her voice.

Meredith smiled tightly, squeezing back Addison's hand although she was quite startled at the gesture. "Help me get out of this mess?"

"You're already out of it. The police were able to rule you out."

She exhaled in relief, able to smile sincerely for the first time that day. "Dear god, thank you," she sighed, the comfort she felt nearly flooring her.

"Yes, thanks indeed," she whispered, pausing. "I… wanted to thank you, too... again, I suppose."

"Oh?"

"For saving Derek,: she answered matter-of-factly. "You saved his life and I'm forever indebted to you, Meredith."

Meredith shook her head. "I was only doing my job."

"Far and beyond the call of duty, if you ask me. You saved him and I thought you tried to kill him and…" she sighed, feeling frustrated all over again. "Just… thank you. It means a lot to me to have you save him. I mean, I know you didn't do it for me. But just the same… thank you."

"No thanks needed. Anyone who was in my place would've done that too. He wasn't answering his pager, I checked on him, he was barely breathing, so I paged emergency. It shouldn't be a big deal. We save lives everyday."

Addison nodded, suddenly seeing Meredith in a different perspective. She was no longer the dirty mistress who slept with her husband. No. Now, she was the woman who loved him sincerely and saved his life. She wasn't childish. On the contrary, she was so mature beyond her years that it made Addison feel humiliated by her actions. "But you saved _Derek's_ life. He's not just some random patient at the pit. He's the man you and I love. And you sabed him. So...thank you, Meredith. If there's… if there's anything I could do for you—"

"Just take care of him, like I said. And don't let him go again. It's thanks enough, remember?" Meredith said, smiling at her. She appreciated Addison's apology, and was touched by the way the woman had lowered her pride for her. It was something she never expected considering how she had been acting these past months. Although it stung to say those words to Addison Shepherd, she couldn't help but feel very mature about her actions, somehow affirming that she was indeed moving on.

"For what it's worth, Meredith, I hope you find someone who's going to take care of you the way you would've taken care of Derek. I know you would've done a marvelous job at it."

She smiled in response, breathing in deeply. "Thank you, Addison."

"Thank you, too. I owe you my own life in exchange of Derek's."

"If I ever find the kind of love you and Derek share, I would consider myself lucky."

Addison pursed her lips before grinning, knowing full well that indeed, whatever she and Derek shared was special. "I was wrong about you Meredith," Addison stated.

Meredith nodded. "Me too. But I've been proven wrong and I think… I think we could be—"

"Friends?"

She furrowed her brow, as if trying out the word. "I know it doesn't seem all too appealing now. But—"

"I would love that," Addison smiled. "I mean… only if it won't be awkward for you and only if you're comfortable with that."

Meredith grinned. "It'll take time to get used to, but I think it's a possibility."

"Well then," Addison said, moving to stand up, "that's settled now. I'm terribly sorry for the mix up and I hope we can patch things up soon."

Meredith nodded, smiling as Addison's relief was made known by her stance. She was back to the old Addison now, but kinder this time. Who would've thought all of these chaotic events would lead her to be friends with Addison Shepherd? Surely life had its ways of surprising her sincerely. "I guess that's it then."

She nodded. "I should get back to Derek."

"You should."

"I'll see you around?" Addison asked hopefully.

Meredith nodded in response before watching Addison walk to the door and back to the man they both loved. In hindsight, she would look back at that day and think of it as a turning point in her life. It was the day she realized she could be friends with the Queen of Passive Aggresiva and move on from Derek Shepherd for something, someone, more worthwhile. It was the day she grew up and faced the music, leaving behind dark and twisty for the more worthwhile bright and shiny.

* * *

Okay. I know, I know. But I think I did a pretty good job at being Meredith friendly. I promised to be real nice, right? :D Hahaha. Anyway, what do you guys think? Let me know? Thanks for reading though! :D Hope you like it.


	21. Chapter 20

AN: This a pretty late update, don't you think? Haha. No worries though. I have two more chapters and an epilogue to go, then this is gonna be a wrap. :) Thanks for all the reviews, by the way! I know... Meredith thing was pretty unexpected (or not), but yeah. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. :) Here's the next chapter and I hope you like it. :)

- I still own nothing, unfortunately.

* * *

Mark walked into the walls of Seattle Grace Hospital, brushing the tiny droplets of rain that made its way on his coat. He was fully intent on finding Addison, but for what, he wasn't sure of. He knew that in the amount of time Addison had spent with Derek since the incident, Derek had managed to melt Addison's heart, ruining her determination to move on. And Addison being Addison, she would be resistant at first but would slowly cave in to his charm. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Addison and Derek were, well, AddisonandDerek again. That much he was sure of.

So when he purchased that ticket to Seattle Tacoma, he honestly had no idea what he was going to do. He assumed it was some primal desire to care for the woman he loved, to be there for her regardless of the fact that he knew he was only making himself vulnerable to pain. But it was more than that. He loved her, truly and deeply, and he would be damned if he let her go without a fight.

Sure he had told her he would be okay with her settling with Derek again, but something in his gut wanted him to make sure she was well taken cared of, by Derek no less. And he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that. In a way, then, she was letting her go and allowing himself to move forward with his life.

With purpose, therefore, he walked through Seattle Grace confidently, charming the nurses to direct him to Derek's room and then knocking on its door hesitantly.

"Come in," he heard her say from behind the door, her voice somewhat distracted.

Gingerly, he placed his hand on the knob and turned it, poking his head through the small opening before he allowed his whole body in.

Addison looked up from her shuffling, surprised to see Mark standing by the door. "Mark?"

He smiled sheepishly, closing the door behind him. "Hey, Addie."

"What are you doing here?" Addison smiled, putting down the shirt she was folding and walking over to him, allowing him to wrap her in a warm embrace.

He kissed her forehead, as was appropriate seeing as Derek was eyeing them from the bed, his eyes ablaze with jealousy. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said earnestly.

Addison pulled away but held on his collar lightly. "That's sweet."

"She's okay," Derek said from the bed, glaring at the hand Mark had on Addison's hip. "A phone call would have sufficed," he said curtly.

Mark grinned, pulling away from Addison and walking deeper into the room. "Oh, but I wanted to make it personal. All she's been getting these past two years have been phone calls," he said pointedly. "I wanted to be different."

Derek continued to glare, resisting the urge to snap, to let out some caustic remark, and to lash out completely at Mark. He had to keep calm if he wanted to show Addison he was worth it.

"Besides," Mark continued, taking a seat on the couch across the bed, "I was worried about you. It's not everyday your best friend is a victim of cyanide poisoning."

Addison grinned from the doorway before plopping herself on the bed and kissing Derek on the forehead. "He's just teasing Derek," she said, looking at Mark disapprovingly but smiling just the same.

She honestly didn't know how she felt with Mark there. Part of her was happy, she supposed. Relieved even. But part of her panicked as well, the countless possibilities that accompanied Mark's presence flashing before her eyes.

Mark nodded from the couch, making himself cozy. "So, Derek, how've you been man?"

"Better about 5 minutes ago, before you came."

"Ooooh, ouch," Mark said, biting his lip from laughing at Derek's immaturity. Maturity never really was one of Derek's strongest suits, but he made up for it in other ways. "How about now?"

"Like I want to raise hell," Derek answered curtly, refusing to look at Mark. He knew for a fact that if he did, he might see the smugness in his features and the triumph in his eyes. And the last thing he wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

"All right, break it up you two, before this thing gets less than amicable," Addison warned, standing up to continue fixing the room. "I don't want you fighting."

"We're not fighting," Derek and Mark said simultaneously, their 30 years of friendship making its presence known. Derek glared and Mark just smirked. They were blood brothers, no matter how much they denied it.

"We're not fighting," Derek repeated. "But I would love to know why Mark is here."

She raised and brow at Derek before eyeing Mark. "You heard him," she said to Mark. "Why are you here?"

Mark shrugged. "I told you, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why would you think she needs taking care of? I'm here," Derek stated, feeling the anger starting to boil in his blood.

He snorted. "Like you've been taking care of her," Mark said sarcastically, instantly regretting it with the look Addison gave him.

"I have," Derek said indignantly, wanting nothing more than to strangle Mark Sloan right there and then. "I've been taking care of her," _asshole_, he wanted to add, but thought the better of it.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, whatever you say."

"I have!" he repeated, his voice raising. "What gives you the right to butt in to my marriage like this and—"

"Marriage? You call this a marriage? You and Addison are getting a divorce by the end of this year and—"

"We're on trial separation," he snapped, breathing heavily.

"Guys," Addison warned, but her warning fell on deaf ears. She shook her head as she looked nervously between the two. Someone was bound to get hurt, she was sure.

Mark snorted again. "Like that makes it all better. Really, Derek? You're this close to getting a divorce," he said, gesturing with his fingers, "but you're in hopeless denial."

"Why can't you leave me and my marriage alone? Why can't you just go back to New York and let me and Addie handle this? Is it not enough that you screwed my wife on _my_ bed, on _my_ favorite sheets? Do you really have to rub everything in my face?"

"I'll rub what I want to rub," Mark said gruffly. "You deserve the verbal reprimand. You're an asshole, always have been and always will. But if I, for one moment, thought about hurting you the way I did, I would stop now and leave. But all I've ever wanted was to make sure that Addison, the woman that I love, was happy. And you weren't keeping your end of the bargain so I made it my business."

"Great. Because you love her, you have to right to screw her? She's my _wife_, Mark! I thought you had more brains than that. I thought you had more moral than that," he said coldly. "But I was terribly mistaken. You have respect for nothing. I love my wife, Mark."

"You're not the only one who has the right to love her, especially if you treat her this way!"

"Guys…" Addison said again, running a hand through her hair and looking from Derek to Mark with a worried expression. "You seriously have to stop—"

"What the fuck, Mark? What part of marriage don't you understand? Is your ego so big that you can't see past it? That you can comprehend the sanctity—"

"Don't talk to me about sanctity! You don't get to do that. You've had your own fair share of mistakes so you're not a saint! But why can't you get past the mistake and just, for once, stop and see that I'm still here, I'm still your best friend. You saw Addie again, why should I be any different?"

"Addison is my wife," Derek said coldly, his breathing hard and restrained. "And you're _just_ a friend. With you, I have no obligation to try."

Mark's eyes widened, as did Addison's, as the implication of Derek's words hit them both. Derek instantly regretted what he said as he turned to see the hurt expression on Addison's face. She felt like she had been slapped in the face, like everything she had been fighting for was for nothing. It was a blow she wasn't prepared to receive.

"I didn't mean it like that, I—"

"Save it," Addison whispered, raising her hand up to stop him from speaking any more. "I think I understood what you meant."

"No!" Derek almost yelled, struggling to get out of the bed and walk over to Addie. "You don't understand. That's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean?" Addison snapped, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "Enlighten me, Derek. Did you not just imply that I was an obligation? That you're trying because of some responsibility?" she spat, her eyes ablaze with anger.

"No!" Derek said quickly, running a hand through his brown locks, trying to think of a way to approach the situation. "Addison, you know I didn't mean it like that!"

"Do I really?" she asked, her anger slowly building up. "You know, if you made that slip a couple of months ago, when I first got here, I would've sucked it up and accepted it because that's what I was then, an obligation. But god, we're so close to getting a divorce but still you act like you love me and want to be with me. And then this? Derek! Do you really hate me that much as to lead me on this way? Is your innate need to the good guy always going to have t hurt me this way?"

"Addie…"

"I'm not finished! I honestly believed, in the two days I've been back, that maybe we really aren't meant to be apart. But now you spring the whole obligation thing in my face and it's made me doubt myself all over again. So this is what everything is then now, right? I'm you're wife and you're _obligated_ to try."

Derek sighed. "What do you want me to say?"

She glared at him, curling her fists to prevent her from scratching his eyes out. "I don't want you to say anything. On the contrary, I want you to do something. I want you to never, ever, speak to me again. I never want to see you; I never want to hear from or about you. You're dead to me, Derek, from now on. You're dead to me," she repeated, picking her purse up in a flurry and storming out the room, leaving Derek and Mark gaping behind her.

And for a while after Addison's exit, there was only shocked silence that filled the room as both Mark and Derek tried to make sense of what had just happened. Both of them didn't expect the conversation to take a turn for the worst, for Addison anyway. If any, they expected the wedge between the pseudo-brothers to drive in deeper for them, not for Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd.

"This is all your fault," Derek said bitterly after a moment, the hopelessness in his tone quite evident. "We were doing okay."

"You know as well as I do that this is your own doing. You're just looking for someone to lay blame on again. But you know what? Why don't you try laying it on yourself for once. Maybe then you could actually stop hurting her," Mark said, giving Derek a pitiful look before standing up in search of Addison.

He had no idea where to start looking. Addison being Addison, she could be anywhere, especially in a hospital she had no emotional attachments to. So following his instincts, he went straight up to the operating rooms and found her sitting in the corner of an empty gallery, trying furiously to wipe away her tears.

"Addie…"

She looked up at Mark and sighed, not bothering to conceal the fact that she was breaking down. "I'm sorry about that," she whispered.

He strode over to where she was and plopped down beside her, wrapping an arm on her shoulder and allowing her to lean on him. "Don't be," he said firmly. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

"But I just… can't believe I allowed him to hurt me again. I thought… I thought we were past that. Apparently we're not."

"Adds… you were married to the guy for eleven years. Things like that just don't go away that easily."

"It's not fair," she said bitterly.

"Nothing is," Mark answered somberly. "But you're handling it as best you could."

Addison sniffed, wiping the tears away angrily with the back of her hand. "I'm so stupid, Mark."

"You're not," he said firmly. "And as much as it pains me to say this, don't walk away. Don't let this one mistake come between what you really want with Derek."

She looked up at him curiously, somehow not comprehending what Mark had just said. "What?"

Mark sighed, ignoring the searing pain in his heart as he slowly let the woman he loved go. "Addie… don't you ever wonder why you hurt this much?" he asked, hisvoice pained. "It's because you love him, and so does he. You care enough to argue, to fly all the way from New York to be together or away and it just all boils down to the fact that you love each other. You're just both too stubborn to act on it."

"Mark…"

"No, listen," he implored. "He called you an obligation. So what? The Addison I know would've scoffed it off with some caustic remark. You would've proven to him how he's not doing it out of obligation, but out of love. Adds… I know you see it. I know that you know that he's not doing it because he's obligated to try."

"What are you saying?"

"He was too caught up in the moment, Addison; because of me. For that, I'm sorry. I worked him up and you're the one who ended up getting hurt. But you didn't give him a chance to explain. Of course he loves you. Maybe at first he wasn't trying wholeheartedly, but he is now and you just… gotta give him a chance, Adds."

"I gave him too many chances, Mark. And he keeps on breaking my heart every time."

"Then don't let him. Don't give him a reason to, okay? Don't give up on him."

She looked at him skeptically and wrinkled her nose. "It's not like you to be so…"

"Giving?" he supplied.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Not quite the word, but it would suffice. It's not like you to be so giving."

Mark sighed, pulling her closer. "I never thought I'd be this giving too. But Addie… I meant what I said. I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. I know Derek does just that, when his head's not too high up his ass anyway. But just the same, I'm… letting you go because…"

"That's what love is," she said quietly. "Letting people go."

He nodded, rubbing her arm. "It's not easy… but seeing you smile and laugh sincerely is enough for me."

"And Derek?"

"He makes you happy. Once you get past denying it, Adds, you'll allow yourself to be happy."

"What if he hurts me again?"

He shrugged. "It's a risk you have to take. But if you ask me… he seems honest this time."

Addison sighed. "I can't allow myself to hurt again."

"Then don't give him a reason to. He wants to work things out with you, Adds, truly and honestly. Don't deny him that. But importantly, don't deny yourself the opportunity. It's time he makes up for his shortcomings."

"And you'll be okay?" she asked timidly, mentally kicking herself for hurting him all over again.

He nodded reassuringly. "I'll be okay. But remember… I'll always be here to pick up the pieces. Always."

-

"There are way too many people in this state whose last name is Jones. We're going to have to narrow down the search," the man, wiping the sweat that had started to form on his forehead.

"Right, with Abraham Jones," the detective said, scanning over the records that lay scattered on the table. "Do you have some sort of family tree or anything?"

The man nodded, pulling out a large file from the drawer, huffing slightly as he set it on the table. "We're still working on computerizing everything," he stated dryly, not at all looking apologetic for the added labor the files would entail. This being the technological revolution, people would've thought everyone was past manual labor.

Detective Sanders sighed, looking near hopeless but nodding. "Let's get to it then. Look for an Abraham Jones, or a Peter Jones. They're big on real estate in Washington State."

"I'll start looking now. I'll call you when I get anything."

"Thank you," the detective said, marching right out of the office and to his car. He was to be his way to Seattle Grace to check on the employee files Richard Webber had readied for him. The chief had narrowed down the files to the cafeteria staff to hopefully make things easier. After all, everything from here on in was hoping, and waiting.

He almost broke every speed limit and traffic rule there was in his haste to get to the hospital, knowing that if whoever had done it still worked at Seattle Grace, he or she would know what was abuzz with the Montgomery-Shepherd case, therefore giving ample time to leave. When he got to the hospital, then, he parked hastily and power-walked to Richard Webber's office. The case wasn't as high-profile as the kidnapping, but it was still important. All the notabe lawyers were breathing down his neck, as per commissioned by Beatrice Forbes. He nad no room to figure things out.

He went up the elevatory hurriedly, checking his watch every two seconds before the doors opened and he exited. He walked through the halls and passed Patricia, Richard's secretary without so much as a greeting and knocked briskly on the door, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor as he awaited a response.

"Come in," he heard the chief say from behind the door, and he opened it to find him sitting on his chair and reviewing some of the employee files.

"Chief."

"Detective."

"What have you got for me today?" he asked, closing the door and sitting on the chair right in front of the chief.

Richard nodded, handing the detective a file. "Kitchen personnel," he said simply.

The detective took it gratefully, flipping it open and scanning through the names. His eyes read through the names, reviewing surnames and middle initials, his brain trying to find a link to Peter Jones.

"Uh…" the chief interrupted. "What exactly are we looking for?" he asked curiously, his brow furrowing at the serious look the detective had on his face.

He looked up, startled somewhat but smiling apologetically. "Any link to Peter Jones," he answered. "We're thinking it's familial but it could be otherwise. I suppose we're trying to eliminate any family members from the wide list of suspects." He sighed, trying hard not to think about the impossibility of the situation. "There's a vague variety of people we could take a lead on," he commented.

The chief smiled dryly. "Well… if it matters any… we have a kitchen staff whose middle name is Jones. But you and I both know Jones is a very common surname," he said almost expertly, himself having reviewed the casefiles before calling the detective in the first place.

"Show me," he instructed, handing the file back, feeling rather agitated.

Richard sighed, not used to taking orders from anyone. But his pride told him he needed to get things fixed, so he relented anyway. At times like these, it was better to swallow things instead of finding yourself regretting not having done so when all is too late. He flipped through the pages one by one and landed on the 4th one, nodding approvingly before handing it back to the detective.

The detective narrowed his eyes as he zoomed in on the information, things clicking so quickly his brain that before he knew it, he was making phone calls to the station, his heart pounding at the possible lead.

_Mara Theresa Jones- Gallagher  
__Female, Married  
__Date of Birth: July 24, 1950  
__Place of Birth: Hartford, Connecticut  
__Educational Attainment: High School; Northgate Academy_

-

Mara fidgeted in front of the detective, her gaze following his movement as he paced the small room. She knew she should've ran. She knew they would trace the cyanide back to her. But her sister-in-law's words racked her brain so much that she was paralyzed, her feet planted to Seattle Grace ground permanently. In retrospect, she had no clue if she did things out of guilt, out of sheer passion, or out of revenge. She didn't know if she regretted it, or if she was too indifferent to care. All she knew was that she had no idea if things were really going to work out for the best.

"Are you going to tell me why I'm here?" she asked, her voice slightly impatient.

The detective stopped his pacing and raised a brow at her. "I was wondering if you could tell me that, too."

Mara sighed, running a hand through her messy brownish-grey hair, her thin wrist curving at an angle. "What do you want to know?"

"What you're not telling me," he answered. "Coffee. Cyanide. Meredith Grey. Derek Shepherd. Peter Jones. It's an odd equation, yes. Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

She raised a brow at him. "Maybe," she said, being rather difficult.

He sighed. "You know, whether or not you speak now, we still get to detain you. There's some pretty strong evidence against you." He stared down at her, intimadating her until she had to force her gaze downward. The man truly was daunting, making him an ideal detective.

Mara nodded, closing her eyes in thought as a shiver ran down her spine at his intense gaze. "Peter Jones is… was… my brother," she said slowly.

The detective nodded, taking a seat right in front of her. "I think I got that much." He was satisfied with the way she was speaking up.

"Estranged brother, actually. When our parents divorced, my father and I settled here in Washington, and he and my mother stayed in Hartford. We never got along much," she said simply, as if the last part of her statement could sum up everything that had transpired in the past months.

"Sibling rivalry?" he asked dryly, not really expecting an answer.

She shrugged. "I suppose you could call it that."

He nodded. "Did you really want to kill him?" he asked, referring to Derek Shepherd. After all, there was no use beating around the bush. No leeway was necessary.

Her eyes widened. "You're assuming, detective Sanders," she stated warningly. "Innocent until proven guilty, remember?"

"Yeah, well, in your case, you're guilty until proven innocent," he commented dryly. "So you can tell us why you did it, which is rather obvious, or you could lie. But between you and me, I think a taped confession would save us all the time and effort," he said knowingly, not leaving any sort of comfortable pretense. He was a man of business. He was direct and straight to the point.

"Do you normally treat people this disrespectfully?" she asked spitefully, unable to help her tone of voice.

"Do you normally poison people with cyanide?" he shot back, retorting. "Because if you do, I'll probably just send you to psych instead of jail. You're crazy after all."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Mara caved in. She sighed, defeated. There was no escaping now. It was a more logical thing to do, anyway; to confess and plead guilty. Maybe the jury would take pity on her. "My sister-in-law guilt-tripped me into it," she whispered.

His interest was suddenly perked, his back straightening as he strained his ear to listen. "Oh? How so?" he asked, his brows raising ever so slightly.

She sighed again, heavier this time. "She told me it was the least I could do considering how Peter and I never patched things up before he died."

He nodded, scribbling down notes. "And who did you say your sister-in-law was?"

"Agatha Jones," she replied curtly.

* * *

Sorry about the Addek scene there. But I think I didn't hurt Mark too much, right? I feel bad though. After Addek, Mark and Addison are like the next Grey's power couple. They're totally the Brangelina of Shondaland. Hahaha. Anyway, let me know what you think of this chap. :) Thanks for reading! 3


	22. Chapter 21

AN: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I decided I didn't want any more drama in it, just patching up with the Maddek friendship. I didn't want to dwell on Agatha anymore so there's not much action. Hahaha. BUTTT. Thanks so much for the reviews for the previous chapter. :) They mean a lot. And thank you to everyone who've read this story and followed through since I posted it. :) Thanks! :D

Thanks for reading this & I hope you like it.

- 22 chapters later, I still own nothing.

* * *

She was running, her legs carrying her as far and fast as they could as she panted heavily, trying to concentrate on the rough road ahead of her. She couldn't bring herself to look back for that would slow her down, so instead she kept on running. She was chasing Derek, his face shining right in front of her but just when she thought she was near, the face would turn into a blur of color, forcing her to run faster.

"You'll never escape me," she heard someone say from behind her, the voice not too far away. "You know what they say. You can run, but you can't hide."

She strode faster, her heart beating a million times a second as she tried to catch her breath. She was lost. She couldn't find her way out of the bushy forest she was in, nor could she see Derek's welcoming face again.

"Addison."

Shaking her head and ignoring her heart's protests, she kept her pace, thanking gods she didn't believe in that she was a track runner in high school and all through college.

"Addison," another voice said, the tone gentler. "Keep running, Addie-bee."

"That's right," the wretched voice bellowed. "Keep running. You'll tire yourself out and then you're mine for the taking."

"No," she whispered, feeling the sweat trickling down her forehead.

"No? Yes. You're running away. Why don't you just face me?" he challenged. "Are you afraid? Oh, I'm sure you are. You were never one to face your fears anyway. Just like your sorry excuse for a husband. He runs away but turns the tables around as if to say he ran away because he loves you. Well guess what, Addie-bee," he said, the voice full of sarcasm, "things don't work that way."

"Stop!" she yelled, looking frantically for Derek in the foggy clearing ahead. "Derek!"

"Addie-bee, keep running. Don't listen to him."

Angrily, she wiped away at the tears she didn't realize were falling, but as soon as her hand came in contact with her eye, she collided forcefully with something concrete. She tumbled backwards, her body barely missing a huge rock that would've broken her back if she fell on it. Her eyes looked up and immediately, she cowered in fear.

It was Peter Jones, holding a bloody knife and smiling maniacally at her. The grin was so familiar and haunting that she found herself frozen in fear and unable to breath.

"Told you you're mine," he said, his tone bored but the colossal implications behind it.

Addison suddenly jolted up, the jerking sending her wide awake as the cold sweat dripped uncomfortably on her body. She was panting, her breathing hard and labored as she tried to get her heart rate back to its normal pace. She didn't scream, which was a surprise, but she was suddenly very afraid. She looked frantically around her hotel room, unable to find a welcome sight as she realized she was alone and fearful.

Trying to calm down, she took deep breaths, closing her eyes as she started praying. It wasn't like her at all; to have nightmares and to wake up in a cold sweat and to pray. It wasn't Addison Montgomery material. But she was such a changed person that she couldn't find any semblance of the old Addison in her. When she looked in the mirror, she often wondered where the confident redhead had gone to. She just wasn't the same.

Sighing, she reached out to the nightstand and turned the lights on, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Then, as if some natural force compelled her to, she reached for her mobile and hit speed dial one, seeking solace from the one person her subconscious knew she would find it.

"Addie?" the groggy voice asked, obviously woken up by the phone call.

"Der?" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling. "Did I wake you?" she asked timidly.

She heard him shifting in the hospital bed, no doubt adjusting himself for a long call. "No, it's fine," he affirmed. There was a long pause before he sighed. "You okay?"

Shaking her head although she knew he wouldn't see it, she matched his heavy sigh with one of her own. "I… don't know."

"Why aren't you asleep?" he questioned, worry very much evident in the way he spoke to her. "Did you… just get in?" he asked, wishing it wasn't the case for it was 4 in the morning, which would mean that she was out all night drinking.

"No… No, I turned in pretty early. I… had a nightmare," she whispered, almost ashamed of the fact. "I'm sorry I woke you. It's just that I… don't know how else to deal with it."

"I'm glad you called me," he said earnestly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No… not really."

He nodded, sitting up straighter in his bed as he turned the light on from the controls by the night stand. "Listen… Adds… I'm sorry about what I said today."

"I know," she said quietly, closing her eyes at the overwhelming sincerity in Derek's voice.

"I didn't mean it."

"I know."

"You're not an obligation."

Silence. She didn't know if that was true from the very beginning, but she nodded wordlessly into the phone.

"And I really do want us to work out," he whispered honestly. "I love you, Adds."

"Yeah," she whispered. "Okay," she said, sniffing slightly.

He sighed, although he wasn't really expecting her to say it back considering what had just happened. He still felt like an ass. Whatever sleep had overcome him that night was fitful, restless. Even in his dreams, Addison's hurt expression seemed to have haunted him, providing him no rest and no comfort. "Why don't you try to get more sleep? I'll talk to you until you do."

"No, I… that won't be necessary."

"Oh?"

Addison closed her eyes in thought, pinching the bridge of her nose as she struggled to stay warm under the covers. "Let's just talk about something else. Good news, preferably."

"Well," Derek said, thinking of something good. "The detective has Agatha Jones in custody," he offered. "The girl from the cafeteria's her sister in law, apparently. She helped us find her."

She frowned. "Agatha Jones?" she asked, surprised. The sweet lady surely couldn't do such a thing, right?

"Yes," Derek confirmed.

"She certainly doesn't strike me as one who could do such a thing."

"Silent water runs deep, Addie. And remember that saying?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair. "Something about the wrath of a woman?"

"Oh," she chuckled dryly. "That. Yeah… that makes sense, I guess."

There was silence between them for a while. Neither of them knew what else to say. It was either they had nothing left to say or they were both not trying. Derek knew he wanted her, and that he had to kneel and grovel, so to speak, if he wanted another chance with her. It was going to be hard, considering how he had pushed here away, almost too far away to reach.

"I thought you didn't want to speak to me anymore," Derek stated quietly, waiting anxiously for a reply. He was trekking dangerous territory, one that could remind Addison of all the screwing up he did and quite possibly make him lose her for good.

She heard the pain in his voice, though there was no trace of bitterness. Could it be that he was acquiescing to the fact that he had made his own fair share of mistakes? "I didn't mean it," she said just as quietly. "We… say a lot of things we don't mean we're mad."

"We do," he agreed. "But… what does this mean, Adds? For us?"

"I don't know, honestly. I mean, we're so screwed we don't even know if we're better off being screwed up together, or apart."

He laughed dryly. "But for the record, I don't want to lose you."

"I'm scared Derek."

"Of what?"

She sighed, trying hard not shiver in fear. "Of a lot of things. Sometimes I… see _him_."

"See him?"

"I see him, Derek, in my dreams. I see him and I _feel_ him. I feel him moving and grinding against me and I feel dirty and… I don't want to anymore, Derek," she admitted, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

"He's dead, Addie. He's never going to touch you again."

"And sometimes… sometimes I think you're the only one who could protect me from all of it."

He paused, processing her words spoken so softly, he almost wasn't sure she spoke at all. "Adds… then let me help you. Let me protect you."

"What if you can't? He's in my dreams, Derek! You can't protect me from my dreams." She was afraid again, afraid of the shadows cast by the lamp in her room, afraid of the darkness, of whatever was behind the curtain, the closet, or underneath her bed. Her childhood monsters were coming back, haunting her. Only this time, it was more real, more palpable, and she could do nothing to keep herself sane. Her father used to sing her to sleep, even carry her to the master bedroom to sleep between Bizzy and him. But Anthony was gone, and Derek was too far away.

"Adds. I can if you let me."

"You can't protect me now," she whispered as her imagination ran wild with countless possibilities. Her eyes were tearing up, her breathing slowly becoming more rapid and urgent. She was starting to panic.

"I can," he said firmly, sensing Addison's worry. "Adds, I need you to listen to me. You're okay."

"They're _here_, Derek. They're here. I can feel it," she panicked, her eyes darting to all the corners of the room, the hairs on her body standing on end. "They're watching me!"

"Addie, no one's watching you, honey," he asserted, his worry growing at the panic attack that was looming. "No one's there. It's just you. You're safe. Do you hear me? You're safe."

She shook her head angrily, pulling the comforter closer to her body and pressing her back on the headboard. Her toes curled and her knees buckled as she thought she heard movement around the hotel room. "I'm not," she whispered. "I'm not. They're here. They're here, Derek! For god's sake, they're fucking here! They're hiding! They're hiding but they're moving and I can hear them!" she yelled, the tears of sheer fear falling hotly on her cheeks. "Why don't you believe me! Derek!"

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Addison," he said firmly, trying to get her to calm down. "Addie-bee, please."

Addison pressed her eyes shut, shaking her head continuously. "Please come, Derek. Please come. Please." She was hyperventilating now, the air coming in and out at a rate faster than her heart. Images swirled in her brain as she started getting dizzy, imagining the shadows creeping out from the corners of her room and gathering around her. "Oh god, Derek. Please!" she begged, her pleading hard and mighty as she cowered in fear.

"Stay on the line, Adds," he said quickly, knowing Addison was losing her sanity rapidly and that he had to act fast if wanted her safe and unharmed. Panic attacks brought about self-inflicted harm, and that was something he couldn't have. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was common, and for Addison who went through what she did, it was about time the trauma made itself known.

Keeping the phone in place between his ear and shoulder, he felt for the landline on the nightstand and quickly dialed the only other number he memorized. He waited anxiously as he heard Addison trying to take deep breaths, but failing miserably.

"What do you need?" he heard the voice from the other end of the landline say. "And who the fuck is this? It's 4 in the morning."

"Mark! It's Derek!"

Mark furrowed his brow in confusion, as if asking himself if he was hungover and imagining things. "Derek?"

"You need to check on Addison, man."

"What?"

"She's having a panic attack! She's on the line, but I can't talk to her straight. Please, go to her hotel room and keep her calm. Tell her there's nothing under the bed, nothing behind the curtains. And if all else fails, you have to sing to her."

"What?"

"Sing. Sing anything by the Beatles. That should calm her down. Just… please hurry."

Mark nodded. "I'm on my way. I'll keep you posted," he said hurriedly, bolting out of the door without so much as freshening up. He had no time to process whatever it was that Derek had said, although in retrospect he would've found it weird to think of singing to Addison. After all, he only knew one Beatles song by heart.

Derek sighed, putting the landline down and turning his attention back to Addison. "Addie… Mark is on his way."

She shook her head. "I want you," she breathed, crying desperately for salvation. "Please, Derek."

His heart clenched, wanting nothing more than to be the one rushing over to where she was. But he was currently still hooked up to an IV, wearing a butt-less hospital gown and with no means of transportation to the hotel. He was stranded, and what made things worse was that he was trying to prove to her that things were different. That _he_ was different.

Thinking Addison was worth more than anything, he set his jaw in determination and pulled his IV out, wincing only slightly as the needle exited his body. "I'll be right over," he said gently before hanging up the phone and struggling to get out of bed, dressing up and slipping away unnoticed to his car and speeding off to the hotel.

-

"I told you we should've stopped," Mara said dryly, glancing over at Agatha's stoic expression. "We could've avoided this."

"My conscience would've bothered me more," Agatha replied. "I could never, in good conscience, just let Peter's death pass me by without doing anything. If I get thrown into jail, then at least I would know I did something _noble_."

Mara raised a brow at her sister-in-law. "You think trying to kill someone is noble?"

"I think that trying to justify my husband's death is noble," she snapped, her eyes ablaze. "You don't know how it is to lose someone you love. You never loved Peter. I'm doing this because I don't want Peter dying for nothing."

"He didn't die for nothing. And we may not have had the most amicable relationship, but I cared for my brother."

Agatha snorted. "Right."

"I just believe there are other ways. Peter killed Anthony Montgomery. Isn't that enough?"

"But the redhead killed him."

Mara shrugged. "You'll get over it. The redhead did nothing. Peter never should've hurt her anyway."

Silence engulfed for a while before Mara sighed, looking directly into Agatha's questioning but stern eyes.

"What are you planning to do?" she inquired. "I'm pleading guilty. Maybe they'll go easy on me."

Agatha's face darkened. "Pleading is beyond me. But yes, I'm pleading guilty. The faster I get out of the shit hole, the faster I can finish my job."

"By the time you try to attack again," Mara warned, "you'll be too sick of jail that you'll never want to do anything bad ever again."

-

By the time Derek got to Addison's hotel room, Mark was trying with all his might to sing Obladi-Oblada in front of a hysterical Addison. His face showed desperation, Addison's showed nothing but panic.

Derek had to bite back the laughter at seeing Mark execute his last resort without success. He entered the hotel room and caught Mark's eye, who immediately stopped singing and sighed in relief. Derek rushed to Addison's sighed and pulled her into a firm embrace, rubbing her back in comfort.

"You're here," she whispered.

He nodded. "I'm here. I told you there's nothing to be scared of."

She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent and pulling him closer to her as her tears fell steadily down. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, coaxing her to take long and deep breaths to calm herself down. "Everything's okay, Adds. Didn't I tell you? No one's here, just you, me and Mark. Nothing to be scared of."

"He was here."

"No one was here, Addie."

She shook her head. "He was here. Dad was too and… he… he was here," she stuttered.

Derek's sighed. "But I'm here now and he'll never come back again, I promise. Let me take care of you."

She nodded, finally allowing herself the comfort she had denied herself for a long time. As much as she tried to push Derek away, there was always some sort of magnetic force pulling them together, as if telling them they could never be apart because they were meant for each other.

Mark looked on as Derek lulled Addison to sleep. It was well past 5 in the morning and he too was exhausted from the effort. Although it hurt to see Addison unresponsive to him, he knew that with Derek, she was happy. And that was what mattered. He was finally learning what love truly meant; letting go and just allowing the one you love find the happiness she wants.

Derek looked up and smiled at Mark. "You can take the couch," he offered, appreciating Mark's efforts.

He eyed the couch and considered for a moment before nodding, making sure that the hotel room door was bolted before making his way to the couch. "Do you need the light?"

Derek shook his head. "No, go ahead and turn it off."

Mark nodded and switched the lights off before taking his shoes off and settling himself on the very comfortable pull out bed. He closed his eyes briefly before he reopened them, hearing Derek speak.

"Thank you for this, Mark," Derek said quietly. "Thanks for being there for Addie. And for… today. It sounds weird, I know, considering how we fought and yea… what I said. But… thank you. You helped me realize a lot of things today."

A look of incredulity crossed Mark's features at hearing Derek say those words. The sentiment was well appreciated, but Derek putting aside his pride was nothing short of epic.

"I know you love her," he continued. "But you're Mark and you care for her more than you care for yourself. Thank you for being selfless. And for helping me realize things before everything's too late."

"Yeah, okay," he said gruffly, not knowing what else to say.

Derek took a deep breath, as if preparing himself to say something big. "… And I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm as much to blame as you, probably even more. And you're right; all of this is my own doing. I'm sorry for accusing you, and for giving you a reason to make a mistake. I'm sorry I was an ass."

Mark's eyes widened in the dark, unsure if he heard him correctly. Did Derek Christopher Shepherd just apologize?

"I'm sorry I haven't been your best friend in ages. But… if it's okay with you… maybe we could put all of this behind us and start over. You, me and Addie. If… if it's not against your… wishes," he gulped, waiting for a reply.

"I… I think I would like that," Mark replied earnestly, feeling relief fill his body. He had come from being completely alone, without family (Derek and Addison), to a chance to rebuild his relationships. Addison and Derek were his only family, and to lose them would make him lost. But Derek was offering himself on a silver platter, and he wanted nothing more than to patch things up with him and Addie. "Friends, Derek."

"No," Derek negated. "Brothers."

Mark grinned into the night. "We'd better be. I just sang a stupid Beatles song in front of your wife. If I'm not your brother because of that, I'm calling it quits," he joked, glad to finally be back on track.

"Well… it was great rendition, Mark," Derek humored, laughing lightly. "Thanks, man."

"You got it," he replied before closing his eyes again and allowing a peaceful sleep to overcome him.

-

At 7am sharp, Sanders walked out of the interrogation room with a big grin on his face. Agatha Jones had surrendered and pleaded guilty to the charges being made against her. Things were finally looking up.

-

Sooo. What do you think? I just needed to write that amid the torrential downpour here at home. That, and my braces' wire coming off and piercing my soft palate. :| Hahahaha. But yeah. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think. :D


	23. Epilogue

AN: So this is it. The epilogue. It's really short and it sort of has loopholes in it, for a sequel maybe, but that's up in the air. :) Thanks so much to everyone who've read and reviewed this story from the very beginning. Quite honestly, I wasn't sure how this story was going to be received at all considering it's a pretty challenging plot to pull off, but yeah. I tried my best and I'm really thankful to everyone who've encouraged me and gave lots of helpful advice. :) You guys rock!

- I own nothing

* * *

Her back rested on Derek's strong chest, their feet entangled underneath the warm blanket as they sat adjacent to the fireplace. It had been a year since all the chaos, and they just got home from the religious service for Anthony Montgomery's 1st death anniversary. It was solemn, melancholy, but most of all, fitting for a man well loved by his friends and family. It had been a difficult road to recovery, to closure, but it was well worth it knowing that all the hardwork was not in vain.

They were at Hartford, staying over at the Montgomery estate while Bizzy and Archer stayed at the Forbes'. It was a sad event, something that brought about more panic attacks from Addison. But this time, Derek was there to keep her calm. Although the attacks were less frequent nowadays, the memory of the events would forever stay, indelible and unforgettable. But with each other, they knew they could overcome it all.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked suddenly, her soft voice breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Derek looked puzzled for a moment before taking Addison's hand and squeezing it gently. "About how far we've come," he replied, still amazed at the way they were able to survive it all.

"We've come far, haven't we?"

He nodded in affirmation. "We have. And we have farther down to go," he said, encouraged.

"I think the judge knew we couldn't live without each other," she whispered, referring to the court order regarding their divorce. As foretold, they would never have gone through with it at all. She knew in her heart she would never find it in her to leave him, to rid herself of him, because as cheesy and hallmark as it would sound, Derek really was the love of her life.

"And that regardless of the distance we put between us, we'd always find our way back to safety, to each other," Derek added, grinning as he realized it was indeed true. Addison was his safety blanket, his solace, his constant. And he was thankful for the chance he got to mend what was broken and to spend the rest of his life with the most amazing woman he could ever wish to know.

Two revisions of divorce papers, a kidnapping, a court order, affairs on both ends… it was a lot to deal with. They had both put each other through hell, and strung along more people than they would've wanted. But at the end of the day, it all came down to the fact that they were meant for each other, and that regardless of the obstacles they went through, they would always be DerekandAddison, and they would always _find a way_.

* * *

I know. Short. But sweet, yes? So yea. This is me signing out. Thank you, really, for reading and reviewing. \:D/ This was a fun story to write and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. :D Take care!


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